


Lucid Dreams

by Triple_deity



Category: South Park
Genre: Agoraphobia, Anorexia, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Biting, Boys Kissing, Car Accidents, Childhood Memories, College, College Football, Depression, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreams vs. Reality, Drunk Driving, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Fear, Fear of Death, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Implied Sexual Content, Law School, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Memories, Multi, Overdosing, Party, Party Games, Phobias, Post-Graduation, Scratching, Seizures, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Touching, car
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-03-08 22:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18904078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triple_deity/pseuds/Triple_deity
Summary: At Stan's going away party, Kyle and him get in an accident. Both are hurt and it ruins their chances at going to their desired colleges. Stan hasn't spoken to Kyle since. But something isn't right. None of it is right. After a year since the accident, Kyle is beginning to piece things together to figure what really happened that night.





	1. Just Wait A Minute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My darling Lucien](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+darling+Lucien).



> I always love to be in touch with my readers. If you find that you want to discuss anything with me privately, my socials are in my profile bio. Those are the two best ways to reach me. I welcome all conversations, feedback is always my motivation.

"I still see your shadows in my room, can't take back the love that I gave you, it's to the point where I love and I hate you, and I cannot change you so I must replace you" played through Clyde's house as everybody in their grade was drinking and moving to the beat. All the lights were on and drinks sat along every table top. This party was for Stan. He was leaving tomorrow for Austin. He somehow won a scholarship that lead him all the way to the University of Texas. Kyle was leaving next week for Columbia University in New York for law school. Truly, this was the end of their childhood. At the end of the night their lives would be changed forever.

Secretly Kyle enjoyed this song despite how overplayed it was. At this point he had drank his limit and was leaning on a wall, mumbling to the song with his head down. 

"Easier said than done, I thought you were the one, listening to my heart instead of my head. You found another one but I am the better one, I won't let you forget me." He began to giggle to himself, trying to pick himself up. He looked around for his best friend. The redhead pushed himself up off the wall and began squeezing past his peers to find the party boy. 

"Stan?!" He calls out over the music. A hand came down onto his shoulder. He was turned around, coming face to face with the one he was searching for. 

"You were my everything, thoughts of a wedding ring, now I'm just better off dead." Was the only thing Kyle could hear.

The drunk Jew shook his head to clear the noise from his head despite that didn't actually work. "Let's go. I'm ready to go. Let's go. Let-let us.. go." He said, analyzing his words. He was wobbling. 

"Dude you're wasted." Stan said, laughing cause he was no better. He had been banging back drinks all night. From beer to vodka to jello shots. They were both plastered and truly Kyle had been on the verge of tears all night. He was going to miss Stan forever. 

"I wanna leave." Kyle demanded, repeating it louder and louder each time. Stan finally laughed and raised his hands in defeat. 

"Okay, okay, dude. W-we're going." He said before grabbing Kyle's hand and led them both outside. Nobody had left yet but Kyle needed to leave. He had to tell Stan what was up.

They walked to Stan's car in the dark, tripping on the ground and laughing all the way there. Kyle leaned on the car, trying to hold himself up.

"I-I gotta drive. I'm your designated dr-driver." He said, not sure if he's gonna burp or puke. Turned out to be neither he simply hiccupped.

"Dude, you're a designated drinker. Get in the car, dude." Stan slurred and got in the driver seat. Kyle shook his head.

"Fine.. fine whatever." He got in the passenger seat, woozy and dizzy. He looked over to Stan. He had to tell him. 

"Hey, Stan?" Kyle said as he laid his head on his own shoulder. His eyes were blinking out of sync. 

Stan stabbed the steering wheel before finally landing the keys in the hole correctly. 

"Oops, haha!" He laughed. He looked to his friend. "Huh?"

"Gotta tell ya something." Kyle whispered. 

"Oh. Okay, what is it?"

"I.. I love you." 

There was a bit of silence before Stan asked for a repeat. 

Kyle concentrated hard before leaning over and crushing their lips together. Stan made a surprised noise before reaching up and touching Kyle's cheek. He immediately kissed back, deepening it with tender pressure. Kyle's fingers found their way into black hair, pushing off Stan's red and blue hat. In return Kyle's hip was caressed by cold fingers up his shirt. The slight scratch from his nails as he moved his hand back and forth along his side gave Kyle way too much confidence. The alcohol was in his veins and his blood was pumping so fast. His hand ran down from dark hair to the sensitive skin below the nineteen year old's belt. Stan pushed Kyle back gently. 

"Kyle." He spoke softly.

The redhead opened his eyes and swallowed hard, still leaned in close. 

"Yeah?" He asked just as quietly. 

"J-Just wait a minute, okay?" Stan asked as he moved back and turned the car on. He pulled out of the spot and onto the road. "Lemme at least pull out of Clyde's driveway." He chuckled. 

Kyle smiled softly and looked to the radio. He buckled up before he reached to the volume knob and turned it up. He laughed as the same song came on. He sung softly again. 

"You left me falling and landing inside my grave, I know that you want me dead. I take prescriptions to make me feel a-okay" Kyle's head rolled across the headrest of his seat as he looked out the window. His singing was slurred to no extent. This song was so catchy. He wondered if he'd ever get it out of his head. "I know it's all in my head" he rolled his head back to the left, looking out the windshield. "Woah woah woah!!" He yelled as he raised his arm by defensive instinct as the car collided with a telephone pole. Everything went white then black.

Kyle had had badly injured. Luckily he had been wearing his seatbelt, despite it breaking two of his ribs. He ended up with a broken cheek bone and black eye from his face slamming into the dashboard, and bruises everywhere on his body.

As for Stan, when he hit the pole, he wasn't wearing his seatbelt. He was thrown forward into the dashboard then slammed back on the seat by the airbag. His knee hit the dash so hard it shattered. He had to get a metal plate and screws put in his leg afterwards. Recovery would take months, which made him lose his scholarship.

Stan blamed Kyle for that night. He was supposed to stay sober and drive them home. But no, Kyle had to drink and it was up to Stan to drive. He was so full of anger and rage that he stayed away from Kyle. He hadn't spoke, not even texted him since that night. Kyle texted everyday afterwards, trying to apologize. Stan never read them. Eventually he blocked Kyle. Yet Kyle still texted him, he just never got them delivered to Stan's phone. Of course, Kyle went over to the Marsh household. The first time he was screamed at and Sharon broke down crying. The second time was more crying and frustration. Soon the tears ended when Kyle would come over to speak to Stan. He was always denied his request. Stan never wanted to see him. Eventually Kyle went over only once a month to try. It just became awkward and pitiful to hear a sad "no."

It's been 11 months and 1 week since the accident. Kyle never let go of what happened. He spoke about Stan constantly. A few months after the accident Cartman and Kenny couldn't be around Kyle anymore. It hurt to watch their friend stay on something for so long. For some reason, Wendy took to Kyle. She was the only one that stayed. Actually, anyone who visited Kyle in the hospital now was gone.

He didn't go to Columbia after all. His mental state was so fragile, there was no way he could go to school. His dad kept the money though, in case Kyle wanted to try again. After the accident, their family somehow came into a lot of money. While Kyle didn't ask why, nor cared, he knew it paid the hospital and therapy bills. Kyle hated it and found it useless, yet his mother forced him into therapy. 

"Kyle?" 

Kyle's disinterested emerald green eyes moves to his therapist. She has dark hair and beige colored skin. She is at least 45. She always dresses in a professional style, in a pencil skirt and blouse. She always asks the same stupid questions. It is always about Stan. It is always about the accident. It is always about that night. 

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." He spits. He was so irritable and unhappy this last year. It was like he lost his own life that night. Kyle never smiles, laughs, is interested in anything. He never leaves his house except for therapy and maybe a day with Wendy. He doesn't go out for shopping, or coffee, or a movie. He hates being around others. 

"Have you made any progress this week with getting out of your comfort zone."

"Nope." He says with his arms crossed and his head back against the wall. 

She sighs. 

"Kyle. You need to get out. Have you been out with Wendy again?"

"We're hanging out later today." He tells her. "I don't know what we're gonna do. I don't know why she hangs out with me. It's not like I'm fun to be around." He says annoyed. 

"You don't think so?"

"Don't do that." He says sharply. "I've been here every other week for five months. You know I'm not fun to be around. Don't act like you don't know how I am outside of these walls because if I'm anything it's consistent." 

After that he simply sits there for 20 more minutes. He usually does that, just tune out and wait for the time to go by. Finally he gets to leave. He flees the room and out to the waiting room. He sees his dad waiting for him. He never took care of the appointment times. He just leaves the building to the car while Gerald did it. This time was no different. 

The sky outside is grey, like a massive concrete block above the atmosphere that wouldn't let the sunshine break through. When Gerald comes out and unlocks the car, his son can't get in fast enough. There are people walking around outside and he can't stand it. He hates human activity. He hates humans. He doesn't even feel human. As he sits in the car, he stares out the window at the people walking by. He feels much safer behind the window. He always feels that way, behind glass, watching others living vividly. 

Gerald's starts the car and they leave to the house. The redhead takes a deep breath and takes his phone. He puts his earbuds in and listens to the pop music that he secretly loves. He is so depressed. He wants to feel it more. He is often so numb, he loves to feel something again. If it just so happens to be utter sadness, so be it. 

He loves the soft sounds before the lyrics. He takes a deep breath and listens. 

"I know you hear me when I cry, I try to hold it in the night, while you're sleeping next to me but it's your arms that I need this time."

Kyle's eyes close and he hears it again. That voice. 

"Just wait a minute, okay?" 

"Stan." Kyle was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling while Stan was trying so hard to desperately spin Kyle's dreidel. It was the fourth day of Hanukkah and Stan decided to sleep over so he could see what Kyle did for the holidays. Stan watched Ike and Kyle spin their dreidels so easily and they stood for so long but everytime Stan tried he failed as it landed on its side. This had been going on for two hours and Kyle was ready for bed. "Stan." He repeated. 

"Just wait, I'm gonna get this."

Kyle sighed and got up. He walked to his door and shut it, cut off the lights, walked back and kicked the toy from his friend. 

"Hey!" 

"I'm tired." He said as he reached down and took Stan's hand. "Please stop." 

Stan sighed and nodded. He went ahead and got dressed as the other teen laid back down. Finally Stan was in bed and Kyle could sleep. But he didn't sleep. He was up till 3 am, talking to the teenage idiot beside him. Perhaps that was one of his favorite nights of his life. Stan had spoke such nonsense and laughed and held his hand. For a second they cuddled and fell asleep even though Kyle didn't want to. That was five years ago. He was only 14. He so badly wished that he had known when the accident would happen so he could've taken those chances to hold him tighter and bask in the moments when Stan still was his friend and spoke to him. 

The car parks in the driveway and Kyle wipes his tears away. He kept his head turned the whole time, not wanting his dad to see him cry. 

Kyle climbs out, going straight inside. 

"Hey, Kyle?" Ike asks, looking up from the couch. Kyle doesn't listen. He goes to his room immediately. That happened every time. Ike felt he lost his brother. Kyle never cared about anyone anymore. He just hated everything and it made Ike hate everything. 

Kyle closed the door and quickly pulled his phone out from his pocket. He sat on his bed and texted Stan. There were so many messages, there's no way Kyle could ever scroll up and find the last message Stan sent. But he knew what it was. He had it memorized in his brain. 

"Lol okay dude. Love ya." Stan had sent that right after Kyle told him he was getting ready for the party and he would meet him at nine, at his house. Kyle would never forget that text. Those laid back, chill, little two words. 

"I miss you." He texts and sends. There's fifty other texts just like that one in these lost conversations. 

Kyle clicks his screen off and lays back on his bed. He feels a hard beating in his chest. He closes his eyes and feels himself choking up. Goddamn, he misses him so much. He longs to just lay eyes on him. He wants to hug him, wrap his arms around him. He craves the memories of them in that car before it left Clyde's. He can still feel it. The lips against his, hand on his hip, Stan's boxers pressed against the back of his hand-

His phone goes off, making him open his eyes and breathe in deep. He quickly grabs it and it's Wendy. He's almost disappointed it's not Stan but it's insane that he's holding onto these memories so tightly. 

He clears his throat and answers. 

"Hello?"

"Hey! I'm outside. Are you ready? I can wait a bit, I don't mind." She says so softly and sweet. Truly, Kyle loves her so dearly for her dedication to him. 

"Nono! I'm ready. I'll be down in one second." He hangs up and hurries out and down the stairs. 

"Wendy's here! I'll be back later!" Kyle hollers before stepping out the door. Ike watches his brother departs and truly, it hurts just as much as it did the first time he watched Kyle leave after ignoring him. 

Kyle hurries to the black car that is parked outside his house. He climbs in and gives a greeting. 

"Hey."

"Hey." She smiles as she watches him buckle up. 

"Where are we going?" Kyle asks. 

Wendy picked him up a few times a week since the accident. She would take him to places where others usually weren't. The park, Stark's Pond, out in some empty snow filled fields to make snowmen or snow angels. Sometimes they just hung out at each other's house or ate fast food in her car. They never went into public or any restaurants when they ate because Kyle got so stressed out. Wendy understood and accepted that. If Kyle enjoyed any time of his week, it was with her. It isn't romantic, but he loves her so dearly. He has no clue why she stays though. 

"We're gonna go ride around, listen to music and get something to eat." 

"What are we getting?" Kyle didn't have a job but his dad did give him money so he paid her gas money and for his own food.

"What do you want?" 

Suddenly Kyle grows even quieter than normal. He smiles a tiny bit at her. 

"I have no idea." He whispers before softly laughing with her. 

"That's okay. Let's get some Taco Bell because Taco Bell is great." She says with an excited voice on the latter sentence before turning on the radio. 

There it is. Kyle's chest is tightened up so hard he can't breathe. 

"I have these lucid dreams where I can't move a thing-"

He immediately turns it off. He takes deep breaths and looks out the window. Wendy looks over. 

"I'm so sorry, Kyle." She says tenderly.

"No, no it's okay. How are you supposed to know what they play?" He says, starting to calm down. 

"Has.. he spoke to you?" Kyle asks. 

Everyone knew Stan hated Kyle. So even when Kyle asked about Stan, no one spoke about him. He would ask how he's doing and they would never tell Kyle what he was up to and if he was happy. When Kyle asked Wendy about Stan, he knew she lied. It was like when he asked Cartman and Kenny many months back about him. Everyone just lied to him to pity him. 

Wendy glances to Kyle and her eyes soften. 

"No. I'm sorry, Kyle. He hasn't." 

Kyle knows she is just following Stan's wishes and she won't let on about anything. 

"Okay." He says.

They drive around for an hour, just up and down and around streets. 

"Why don't we ever leave town?" Kyle asks. 

"Huh?" Wendy asks, looking to him. 

"We always stay in town."

"Well… do you want to go out of town? There's nowhere less crowded than our town."

"I don't want to. I just noticed that even with my parents we never leave town. Only to see my therapist but dad goes out of his way to take a longer route. I don't understand that." He says. 

"What's do you mean?"

"He refuses to take the road towards Denver, he goes back towards North Park for it when it takes so much longer."

"Oh. I dunno. Maybe he likes the scenic route." She suggests.

"Maybe." He mumbles. 

They pull up to Taco Bell and Wendy orders for them. Kyle closes his eyes and breathes deep as he hears others speaking and loud noises coming from inside the drive through window. 

Wendy drives them out of the parking lot and heads to the pond to eat with her nervous friend. 

She hands him his burrito and smiles sweetly. Kyle doesn't begin eating. He watches her till she finally notices and stops eating. 

"What?" She asks. 

"Why do you do this?"

"Kyle, you ask every time. I told you. I care about you-"

"But why? Everyone else has left."

"Because Kyle. You matter to me."

"Why? You have Stan, you have Bebe, you have so many other friends."

"They're not like you Kyle. You're special."

"You pity me." Kyle spits. It makes Wendy look a little hurt. 

"I don't. I've promised you that every time. I genuinely care about you-"

"Are you into me?" He asks quickly. 

"What?" She giggles, breaking out into a smile. "I mean, I love you. I care about you. But I'm not looking for anything. These aren't dates. This is two friends spending time together."

Kyle pauses and accepts her answer. He nods and begins eating. He looks out and watches the water that's surrounded by snow. 

"I miss him." He whispers, lowering his meal. 

"It's okay, Kyle." Wendy says, swallowing her bite and rubbing his shoulder.

"Aren't you tired of hearing me talk about him?"

"No. I understand your pain."

That honestly pisses Kyle off. No one understands his pain. They all still have Stan. Kyle is the only person he hates. Everyone is still happy and fine. How could anyone possibly understand his pain? 

Him and Wendy eat and talk before she takes him home. 

Kyle is so exhausted only from leaving the house. He thanks her. She used to hug him but learned he hates it. Kyle never let anyone touch him. Maybe he just wanted Stan to be the last one to have his hands on him. He gets out after giving her gas money and says goodnight. He goes in the house and up to his room. Ike is in the bathroom brushing his teeth when he spots his big brother. He spits and hurries out, bubbles still on his face. 

"Kyle!"

Kyle ignores him, closing his bedroom door on him. Just as always, it crushes Ike. 

Kyle strips down and puts some boxers and a white pajama shirt on and lays down. He takes a deep breath and prays for no nightmares tonight. Just as always, Stan is the last thought in his mind before he falls asleep.


	2. I Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle wakes up in the night and he's feeling good. He takes a chance to do what he's thought about doing for awhile, texting Kenny. The two head to the park and spend three hours smoking weed and enjoying their time together. However, Kyle is suddenly faced with a terrifying problem.

"Candy paint with the white on top, lambodoors are the oo-op drop, if you plotting on what I got, kick in your door, that's swat you thot."

Its two in the morning. The Jew's prayers were met. He had no nightmares but woke up randomly an hour and a half ago. The redhead now has his hat off, running his fingers through his curls. His airpods are in, Post Malone up loud in his ears. He spins around, body moving as he lip syncs. His silhouette glides off the walls in the dark as the moonlight shines through the window curtains. He pauses in front of his mirror. In the dark he wasn't fragile. He was rock hard in many ways. He sheds his shirt, looking over himself in the glass reflection. He runs his hands up his abdomen, to his chest and collarbones. He takes a deep breath and caresses his own shoulders. His fingers trail up his nape to his hair. He likes it here in the dark. His thoughts were off Stan and on himself and what he wanted.

He has a secret. He very often would consider simply falling for someone else, or at least doing something with someone to forget the hands that last touched him. Truly, he thought of Kenny. He was always calm, yet mischievous with the blonde. Since freshman year they would smoke and go mess around with stuff in town. It was Kyle's grand escape. He tried talking to his childhood friend but he always remembered that their last conversation was months ago and he was probably mad at him like everyone else in this town was. 

But something is different. Lately his nightmares are easier. He doesn't see car crashes behind his eyelids. He sleeps and dreams of a song way off in the distance and feels judged but it's nothing like a year ago. 

Kyle picks up his phone and thumbs through his contacts. He stares at Kenny's name, just staring for a solid three minutes.

"Ah! Aw, fuck yeah!" Moans, which are pretty obnoxious, resonates loudly through the wires in Kenny's earbuds. He is laid back, his phone above his head, his right hand dipped into his briefs. He is somewhere in between lazily stroking and genuinely trying to get somewhere. 

"Just gag the bitch already, damn." The blonde mutters, about to find a different video. He really isn't that picky but the moans of a tone deaf, horrible voice makes him cringe. Suddenly his phone vibrates, making it slip from his fingers and hit him in the face. One of the corners of the device lands right on the bridge of his nose, making him jerk and hold his face. 

"Aw! Goddamnit!" He cries, sitting there for a minute before checking his phone. He is very annoyed until he sees who it's from. His eyes read over the contact again and again.

He exits the video and goes to his messages. 

"Are you up?"

Kenny just keeps staring for a bit. His heart is pounding hard. 

Kyle has now lost a bit of confidence and his sitting on his bed, biting his nails. He put his shirt back on out of a bit of irrational embarrassment. He quickly picks up his phone and smiles. 

"Yeah are you okay?" 

The text makes Kyle feel cared for. 

"Are you busy?" He sends back, having actually written a lot more but it was rambling. 

After he gets that message, Kenny looks down to his semi hard on and sighs. 

"No, I'm not busy. Do you need to talk?" The blonde replies. 

"Are you sure?"

Kenny laughs a bit at the redhead's question. He knows it's only his anxiety but he found his mannerisms very cute. 

"Yes, I am sure. Are you okay?" He repeats. 

Kyle, of course, types up many different answers then finally decides on one. 

"No. Can we meet somewhere?"

Kenny loses his smile and sits up. 

"Sure. Where?"

"Can you just come here and we'll go to the park?"

"Yeah, lemme get dressed."

With that, Kenny stood and pulled the jeans he was wearing before bed back on. He looked back at his phone when it vibrated again. 

"I don't want you to think I just want drugs. But do you happen to have something we can smoke?"

Ken smiles softly. He would definitely come through for Kyle. 

"Yes, I'll be right there." 

After pulling his shirt down over his head and then slipping on his coat and shoes, Kenny takes a box from his dresser and opens it. He rummages through for his grinder and blunt wrap. There's so many empty wrappers and little bags, he begins to get annoyed and just starts throwing the empty ones out. He notices this and wonders if maybe he could finish what he started before he leaves, considering how tense he is becoming.

Fifteen minutes later Kenny is walking up in front of the Broflovski household. Kyle is outside waiting. 

"Dude, what took so long? It takes like five seconds to walk over here." He asks.

"Wasn't sure if I could come or not." He says, joking with himself. Kyle was such a sight for sore eyes. He can't help but hug the redhead so tightly. Their cheeks touch as the blonde wraps his arms around him. Ken feels a little worried considering how cold Kyle is against him. Maybe he had just been in the a/c but this warm summer air makes him feel so much colder.

He moves back and looks him over again. Kyle is so pale. The blonde can tell he hasn't been eating great and hasn't left the house. 

"Are you ready to go to the park?" He asks. 

"Yeah. Do you have the stuff?" Kyle asks right back, pushing his hands in his pockets. The blonde smiles. 

"I always do. C'mon. Let's go." 

Kyle takes a deep breath. He feels nervous. He is about to make some heavy decisions. He's been feeling nervous ever since he stepped out of the house. Like someone is watching him. He keeps looking around but no one is there. He's probably just paranoid from being outside at night. Or outside in general.

The two make their way up the trail to the park around Kyle's house. The blonde wants to ask how the little hermit has been but everyone knows how he has been. He has consistently been horrible for a whole year and Ken doesn't want to bring that up. 

"I missed you." He chooses to say. 

His eyes are on the more pale guy beside him. 

Emerald green eyes find their way to diamond blue ones. 

"I missed you more than you think." Kyle says very sentimentally. 

Ken smiles and raises a brow. 

"Yeah? Why do you say it like that?" 

Kyle drops his head again, staring at the sidewalk. 

"It doesn't matter." He mumbles. 

Ken's eyes are as soft as Wendy's was. Everyone has soft calm eyes for Kyle Broflovski. Not a person in the world is harsh with him. Not anymore. It's pity but it's tender and it's quiet. 

"If you wanted to see me I would have been right over." The blonde promises. 

Kyle doesn't say a word. There was something about his stoner friend. It's like he grew up quick. Or maybe it was just an act, some lie or facade like everyone else gave him.

They walk into the park and find a place to sit. While there are benches, they decide to sit against the chain link fence, in the corner behind the playground. The structure of the play area is so tall it blocks the streetlamp from blinding them in the eyes and allows them to look up and see the starry night sky above the trees and their foliage. 

Kyle is staring upwards when he hears a lighter strike a few times. 

"Dammit." 

He looks over at Kenny who is covering his lighter with his hands, trying to cup the flame and get the blunt lit.

The poor kid finally gets it going, giving a few puffs before handing it to the Jew beside him. 

Kyle takes it between his fingers and inhales as deep as he can. He hears a cracking prepubescent voice right beside him so very clearly. All of his surroundings change. 

"Three.. two… one!" 

Kyle blew out hard, gasping for air. He began coughing and sputtering, reaching for his water to ease the burning sensation in the back of his throat. He scooted up close on the couch cushion, knees to the coffee table. He was in Cartman's house, trying to forget their first day of high school.

"See? That's how you hold it." A fourteen year old Kenny McCormick explained matter of factly. He took the measly joint from the other fourteen year old's hand and began to smoke it himself. Kyle's hands shook as held his plastic water bottle and kept coughing. 

"Dude, are you okay?" Stan asked, putting a hand to his best friend's back. 

"Yeah!" He coughs hard. "Fuck!" He sniffles, eyes watering and nose running.

"Damn, Jew, you gonna die on us?" Cartman taunted. Kyle, without looking over raised his middle finger up, making the three other boys laugh hard. Even Kyle cracked a wide smile. 

"Cartman?" Ken asked, handing him the joint. The chubby teen took it and inhaled, holding it in then handing it back. It was Stan's turn again. It all went down the line of the couch. 

"Kyle? You good?" Ken asked as he watched the redhead wipe the tears from his darkening eyes. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." He laughed.

"Just don't hotbox him. His kind doesn't do well in gas chambers." Cartman said, blowing out his smoke. 

"You fat fuck!" Kyle spit, his head turning to the left, staring down the last person on the couch. He was high off his ass already but he was gonna let Cartman have it. It he could find it in himself. "You are such a fat sack of shit!'

"Fuck you!" Cartman spit. 

"You wish!" Kyle yelled right back, making everyone go quiet. 

All eyes, while very confused, were on Kyle. 

"I.. I-I ..don't know why I said that." He said, smiling and cracking up. Ken grabbed Kyle's jaw and looked at his face. The blonde scoffed and let him go. 

"He's stoned out of his head already." Ken laughed, everyone else laughing with him. 

"I am not." Kyle protested, smiling like an idiot. 

"Suuuree." Stan agreed sarcastically. He looked Kyle in the face and for a good while Kyle looked right back. Stan was gorgeous. His eyes were special. Butters had sky blue eyes, Craig had navy, Kenny had diamond. But Stan, he had the kind of blue eyes that drew you in and didn't let go. He had soft sea blue eyes. Stan was beautiful the day Kyle met him and was beautiful the day he last saw him. 

"Here." Stan spoke in that voice that drove Kyle crazy at the time. His voice had began to deepen and it was so profound to hear. 

Kyle took the joint and held it between his fingers. He stared at it for a bit, feeling free for just a moment. 

"Kyle?"

Kyle looks to his left to stare nineteen year old Kenny in the face. 

"Huh?"

"Man, you let it go out." 

Kenny takes the blunt and gets it lit again. Kyle felt very light headed lately. His memories were way more vivid, more real. He could smell and hear things. He could see people so clearly and defined. Everything was so real. He looks down to the concrete ground under them. 

"Does Cartman miss me?" He asks softly. 

Kenny blows out the breath he was holding in and looks to his friend again. 

"Want the truth?"

The redhead looks up. 

"Yeah."

"He misses you the most." Ken answers, being very serious. Kyle feels a bit of sadness in his heart. He can't stop himself from asking. 

"Does Stan?"

Ken looks tense but he's not surprised or taken back. He puts out the blunt by rubbing it into the concrete and then places it in his pocket.

"Of course." 

That immediately tore Kyle apart. 

"Then where the hell is he?" He snaps. 

Kenny again, is not surprised but remains tense. 

"Kyle, we go over this every time. You have to let him go." 

"Why?! What did I do that was so bad that he just left me in the dust?!" He exclaims, starting to crack again. Kenny moves to his knees quick, taking the redhead by the shoulders firmly.

"Listen to me. You didn't do anything to deserve this pain." His eyes are so full of seriousness. Kyle can't remember ever seeing them like this.  
"I swear to God, Kyle, I promise you that he misses you." 

The blonde's hands are beginning to shake as his voice wavers and tears are filling his eyes. 

"We all miss you." 

Kyle studies his friend's face, feeling so vulnerable. He pushes him off and stands. 

"You're lying! Everyone hates me now!" 

"No one hates you, Kyle!" Kenny cries, standing right up with him. 

"He does!"

"No he doesn't." Ken speaks sternly. "He does not. He never has. No one could ever hate you."

"You're lying." Kyle says, his voice cracking. His chest is tightened. It's so hard to breathe. "Everyone hates me. He hates me. You hate me." He chokes out, stepping back from the blonde in front of him. 

Kenny has always been harmed. He has had to go through hell with his family. He's had to go through literal Hell. He has had his ass kicked and sister screamed at. He has been called worthless and been neglected. He has been stabbed, shot, crushed, electrocuted, drowned, bled out, and eaten alive. He has been hurt many times, in many ways. But the most pain he has ever felt is with Kyle. He becomes so physically and emotionally ill to watch him hurt like this and for so long.

Kenny steps to him, making Kyle back up nervously. He doesn't stop though. He steps close till he has his hands on Kyle and holds his shoulders gently. He looks this young man's face over, all the pain in his eyes, tears on his cheeks. He kisses his cheek sweetly and determined. He pulls him in close, hugging him. He cradles the back of Kyle's skull with his right palm. He whispers against his hair. 

"I could never hate you. You can hurt me, you can break me, you can kill me, but I will never hate you." He promises. 

Kyle swallows very hard over the lump in his throat. 

"Why are you so nice to me?"

"Because I love you. You're my best friend. I didn't forget about you." 

Kyle slowly hugs him back. He hasn't hugged anyone back in a long time. Maybe Wendy would be jealous. Or maybe he's just high. He takes a leap here, thinking about the big decisions he planned to make.

He moves his head a bit, backing up. Kenny thinks he just wants out of the hug but he's met with a hard kiss to the lips. Now that surprises and takes him back a bit.

The blonde steps backwards, looking at his redheaded and red faced friend. 

"What are you doing?" He asks

Kyle begins to flounder. His breathing is quick and he's stumbling over a rambling explanation. Ken isn't very smart at all but he quickly sees that Kyle just needs attention. That's becoming obvious. So he allows this. In fact, he humors him for a little bit. 

"I-I didn't mean to, I promise I just-" Kyle stuttered until he finally looked back up and made eye contact. 

Two rather rough hands reach up and caress Kyle's face tenderly. Ken's thumbs stroke over his cheeks. He remembers looking Kyle in the face after the accident. His cheek bone was broken and he was so swollen, all the way up to his brow. 

He kisses his lips tenderly and eases back. "We don't have to do anything and I won't tell you no. I understand if you need a good night for once. Cause really I need one too." Ken says, giving verbal permission for Kyle to do as he pleased. 

It was very nervous and shaky at first but in a minute Kyle let's go. They spend minutes upon minutes of just kissing and touching each other's hair. Ken doesn't push to go further and he stops when Kyle seems he is fulfilled. Honestly, Ken's just glad he made sure he cleaned the pipes before meeting him tonight.

"Good?" The blonde asks with a cheeky smile, as he steps back and puts his hands in his coat pockets.

Kyle, breathing a little heavy and trying to hide it, nods. 

"Yeah.. good. Um.. why did you..?" He asks, blinking a bit much.

Ken reaches up and strokes his cheek again before dropping his hand to his side. 

"Because I know what it means to need attention." He says, recalling upon needing it most of his life.

Kyle nods and smiles a bit. 

"Can we keep smoking?" He asks. It's Ken's turn to smile and nod.

"We can do anything you want."

The rest of the night is filled with marijuana smoke in their lungs and in the air, followed by games of tag and kissing through the park. It is so soothing for both men to be held and kissed and amused for a moment in their depressing lives. While this whole town was depressing, they made it lively here in the night. 

Finally at five in the morning they head back home. The sun is coming up and it brings an end to the sudden life they made together in the dark. The sky has gone from deep violet to a pleasing purple and pink.

Kenny kisses Kyle's lips goodnight despite the time. 

He steps away to go home and a hand reaches out to stop him. 

The blonde looks back at him, seeing fear in his eyes. 

"Don't tell Stan." He begs in one quick breath. Kenny grows tense again, this time truly concerned at the mention of his name. 

"I would never do that. I promise it's just between you and I." Ken declares. 

Kyle gradually let's go and turns to unlock the door. He takes his time to watch his friend leave and wave goodbye. When the bright orange color is out of sight, he looks back to put the key in. His eyes just so happen to look up in the window as he's turning the knob. In the reflection he sees someone behind him on the other side of the street. There's a bit of a jump in his heart but when he looks closer into the glass, it starts to race so hard he's scared it might explode. He spins around with terror in his eyes, looking to the other side, breath wavering across his lips. He scans the street over and over until he finally turns back and hurries into the house. He can't get up the stairs fast enough. He closes his bedroom door a little too loud and scurries under his blanket to hide from what he just saw.


	3. Can I Come In?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle has a nightmare unlike any other after seeing Stan outside his house. He is in complete denial about his worsening mental stability. He calls upon an old friend for comfort.

There's soft breathing in Kyle's ears. His lungs are taking in air so deeply. He's blanketed in darkness. He can't tell where the night sky begins and the cold ground ends. He's got rough hands on his bare hips and teeth biting into his naked shoulder. He's embraced from behind, whispers in his ears. Their torsos touch, skin to skin. They echo off the walls of this place. This void.

"I swear to God, Kyle, I promise you that he misses you." The words come out in hot breaths across his neck. They send shivers down his spine. He's barely able to stand. His legs ache from the weight of the world on his shoulders. It's so hard to carry himself.

Tears begin to drip like leaky faucets, one by one. He can hear them on his skin, gliding down his cheeks. The puddle at his feet. He tilts his head back and closes his gem filled eyes. 

"Then where is he?" He whispers into the air. 

There's silence around them, then a soft quiet sigh comes from his parted lips. It's cut off by a hand around his throat. His eyes snap open, fear stricken in them.

"You thought you could hide this from me?" A familiar voice asks, masked by a familiar face, a part of a familiar body. But his character is anything but familiar. 

"Stan." The redhead chokes out, nails clawing and digging into the soft skin of the hand around his neck. But for some reason, it's hurting Kyle more. 

"You didn't think he'd tell me?" The dark haired guy asks. "You think you can just come back?" 

The hand around his windpipe tightens as the rough hands of the male behind him grabs his wrists and forces them by the his own sides. With his hands down, body pressed back on the blonde's, and throat held by the old friend in front of him, his head begins to hurt like never before. It's like a steel knife in his skull. He can't breathe.

"You don't deserve to be happy." The dark haired man hisses. 

The fingers wrapped around his neck squeeze more and more, as tight as they possibly can. Stan extended his other hand, reaching out. He rubs Kyle's exposed hip, clawing it lightly at first, then tears his nails into like it's a Christmas present. The grip around his wrists are so tight and painful. He's suffocating. He can't move. He can't fight back. His heart is pounding harder and harder and harder and harder and hard-

Kyle shoots up in a sitting position on his bed gasping for air. He reaches up, holding his throat as he coughs and keeps trying to breathe. His room is pitch black and it's scaring the shit out of him. He hurries out of his bed, into the hallway and to the bathroom. He opens the door in a panic, not noticing or caring about who's in here.

"Hey!" Ike yells as he jumps in sudden surprise and covers himself with his bath towel.   
The bathroom is steamed up from the 14 teen year old's shower. Kyle's hand wipes across the clouded mirror hard, trying to look at his throat.

"What the hell?! Knock first!" Ike shouts but soon stops, noticing how scared his brother is.

Kyle's hands are shaking. Tears are pouring down his face. There are scratch makes all under his chin from trying to pry off an nonexistent hand. His breathing is so heavy. He's shook up. He can hear the blood pumping in his ears. His chest is pounding. He can feel it all over his body, his veins pulsing.

"Hey." Ike says softly, voice full of concern. "What happened?" He asks, holding his towel close, his dark eyes wide with bewilderment.

Kyle just shakes his head. He backs up. 

"Sorry." He says and leaves quietly. 

"Kyle." Ike says softly as the door shuts. His heart is so sunken. It always was.

Kyle goes to his room, slaps on the lights, and looks at himself. He's still wearing his clothes from last night. What the fuck happened? He holds his head, confused as ever. It takes a good while for everything to come back to him. He looks around, spotting his phone on his night stand. He walks over and picks it up. It's nine at night. He drops the phone on the bed and runs his hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. He's fucking strung out. He runs his cold hands across his face. He feels so oily and gross. He makes a face of disgust and collects some clothes for his own shower. 

When Ike gets out Kyle steps right back in the bathroom, running the water in the shower. He takes his time to wash his hair, using little shampoo and massive globs of conditioner. As he's cleaning his hair his fingers brush against the scar on his forehead. He swallows hard. He grew his hair out longer to cover it and kept his hat always on. He couldn't stand it. So deep. So discolored. So noticable. He tries to stop thinking about it and move on. He scrubs his body with a soaped up rag but pauses, eyes so dazed and face looking numb. He can feel the hands on his hips and his wrists being held down. He slowly tries to run the rag across his hips and between them. This felt so hellish and painful. He carefully tilts his head back, letting the water hit the scratches on his throat. He takes the soap, runs it between his hands and gently massages the skin. His jaw locks, body tense at the feeling of something around his neck. He tries to relax and bask in the hot water before it turns cold. His thoughts are everywhere and yet frozen in time. He can see the void, hear the echoes, feel the still air on his naked body. He opens his eyes, staring at the water circling the drain. He questions if he's even real. Maybe he died a long ass time ago. That would make more sense. 

He gets out of the shower after a few more minutes and dresses in some loose comfortable clothes. He's got on a worn out basketball shirt, some grey sweater pants, socks, and his hat. He walks carefully downstairs and takes a seat on the couch, looking around. He reaches in his pocket for the phone that he just got done putting in there. He checks it. There's a few messages. He looks through them. Wendy wanted to see if he was okay. He texts back yes. Kenny wanted to see if he was okay. He doesn't text back. He doesn't know what to say to him or if he can handle it. But it was hours ago and if he didn't answer soon he might just-

A knock comes on the door. 

"Oh, mother fucker." Kyle whispers and gets up to answer it. He does and it's the guy from his dreams, or nightmares to say correctly. 

"Hey." The blonde greets quietly, sounding so genuinely concerned and caring. 

"Hey." Kyle says, avoiding eye contact and clearing his throat. The light from the inside of the house is blinding Ken so he can't see the marks above the redheads collarbone. 

"Are you okay?" Kenny asks, eyes trying to connect with the green ones. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." The other male answers, so softly it's pathetic and worrisome.

"Kyle-"

"Kyle! Are you up?!" His mom calls from the kitchen. She begins to walk into the living room. "We need to talk." She says in her loud voice. Kyle turns his head to her. 

"Alright gimme one second! Kenny's here!" He calls over his shoulder. In the light Kenny sees the claw marks. His eyes widen and he pulls his hands from his pockets, turning Kyle back to face him. 

"What the fuck is that?!" He cries, now ten times more worried.

Kyle tenses up and checks over his shoulder to see if his mom heard. He steps out from the house and closes the door behind himself. He turns to the blonde.

"It's fine." Is all he knows what to say. 

"Fine?! That is not fine! What the fuck happened?!" Kenny asks, almost angry. "Are those scratches? Did you scratch yourself?"

"I was sleeping."

"Sleeping?!" He gives a little sigh and brings Kyle close, inspecting it. "You did that in your sleep?" 

"Yes, I'm fine-" Kyle managed to say quick enough, smacking the hands away from his face.

"That's not fine!" He snaps, so overwhelmed. "Why didn't you text me back? I was worried about you." 

"I told you I was sleeping-"

"For 16 hours?!"

"No!" Kyle finally yells back. "I didn't fall asleep till noon. I couldn't sleep." He admits. 

"Why couldn't you sleep?"

Kyle rolls his eyes so hard his body moves with them. "Kenny. What does it matter?" He asks, exasperated.

"It matters because I care about you." He says sternly. 

Kyle laughs, making Kenny feel like he's got a knife thrown into his chest. 

"Go home, Ken." Kyle says, turning back and opening the door to go inside. Ken's face turns into a grimace. He reaches up, pushing Kyle backwards and closing the door. He backs Kyle up, away from the house. 

"Stop. Stop right the fuck now." Kenny demands. "I'm not playing this game. You can't just ask to see me, need me, kiss me-" he pauses, taking a breath at the pain of feeling using. Kyle shrinks back, feeling so small, embarrassed. And ashamed already. "You don't get to treat me how Stan treats you. That's not how this works." 

That makes the redhead wince. Fuck. Is that what he did? Is that how he treats people? He's starting to feel unglued more than ever. 

"We don't have to be friends, but that doesn't mean my feelings are just gonna go away. You're my best friend. I want to be here for you." He says. The sternness in his voice is resonating in Kyle and it makes him feel like a scolded child. He fucking hates it, how he gets dominant and parental then sweet. It leaves a firey and bitter taste in Kyle's mouth. It's not like he can tell Kenny anyways. How is he supposed to tell him what happened? Say "I saw my ex best friend outside my house, couldn't sleep, had a nightmare so bad I harmed myself in my sleep. Btw I think I'm into you"? 

"Look, I care for you too, but today is not a good day." Kyle says, rubbing his forehead which is starting to hurt. He's so dehydrated and starving. "I just woke up. I need to eat. I need to sit the fuck the down." He breathes out. It's so straining to talk. "I'll tell you about it later, okay?" 

There's a long pause and finally Kyle moves. 

"Go home." He says, walking into the house, leaving his oranged coated friend in the lawn. 

He closes the door and locks it, not because of Kenny, but of what else was out there. 

He makes his way to the kitchen, where his mother drops a dish the second he walks in. Here it comes again but worse. He gets his head pushed back, collar bone grabbed, talked about, inspected, wiped down with alcohol and then interrogated all throughout dinner. When his parents finally accept his honest answer, they make a decision for Kyle to have an emergency therapy appointment.

"What?! No! Why?" Kyle asks, feeling this day is absolutely shit. He did not want to go back there before his forced appointment in two weeks. 

"Kyle you slept all day, you're not eating, you had a nightmare like this, you are going, mister!" His mom demands. Kyle slumps into his seat, staring up at the wall in front of him. This day was shit. 

He looks over to the right of him, seeing the dining room table. The dining room was cluttered with papers constantly now. They varied from lawyer documents to therapy bills to college applications, and whatever else. They didn't use it much anymore. Not like they really sat down as a family to eat together anyways. 

He gets up slowly, making his way to the cabinet. He grabs a glass and walks to the fridge. He presses his cup to the water dispenser on the fridge door. He let's it fill up, then gulps it down. He takes a deep breath then fills it back up. He swallows that down and fills it up again. At this point Gerald is watching his son in concern. Kyle downs that, fills it up, then drinks it all. He fills it up again and jumps when a voice finally breaks the silence, spilling most of it on himself.

"Jesus!" Ike exclaims, turned around in his seat, watching him just like his parents are. Kyle, with tired and dazed eyes look at them. He blinks a few times, looking at each one of their faces. He slowly continues to drink what was left in his glass then lowers it. He takes a deep breath, still looking at them. 

"What?" He asks.

"Kyle, you have to start taking care of yourself!" His mother cries, so very worried for her son. He rolls his eyes hard, groaning.

"Ugh, I'd rather die-" He gasps, throwing his hand over his mouth. His eyes snap to his mother's horrified face. Suddenly he's not dazed anymore. "I didn't mean that. I swear to God I didn't mean that." He says, pleading she doesn't flip. But she does. Immediately. 

Within twenty minutes Kyle has an emergency appointment to his therapist for tomorrow at eight in the morning. It wasn't that Sheila called the clinic. It's nine at night. She called the therapist directly. Four times until she finally picked up and then she let her have it for not answering sooner. 

"How could you say that?" Gerald asks him, scolding a bit. He and his boys are sitting at the table, not really eating while the woman of the house was losing her mind on the telephone. 

"I didn't. Mean it." Kyle repeats for the 50th time. He is back to being slumped in a chair, staring at the wall, arms crossed. 

"Didn't you?" Ike asks, catching both men's attention. 

"What?" Kyle asks, looking over very confused. He absolutely didn't expect his little brother to ask that. "What are you talking about? No, I didn't mean it."

Ike just looks at him for awhile with pained eyes. He has watched his big brother become a ghost over the last year. He has consistently ignored Ike for that long. Kyle made his parents take days off from work to drive him to therapy. They had to work harder than ever, taking up most of their nights to do work from home. He never went outside or talked to anyone. He never smiled or laughed or cared about a damn thing anymore. He discontinued his education altogether. He was so neglectful, self centered, and entitled. Never could Kyle be wrong, he's sick, he lost a friend, he's always sad cause he doesn't know how to accept something and move on like everyone else in the entire world. Ike's eyes are beginning to fill with tears as his face expresses pure anger with a mix of frustration and a dash of hatred. He can't stop the unforgettable words from leaving his mouth. 

"Maybe you should have." 

"Ike Broflovski!" Gerald yells, shocked and appalled by what just came out of his youngest son's mouth. Kyle's face falls into shock. His chest tightened as his heart drops. His eyes can't leave his brother's. Tears are brimming up in the nineteen year olds eyes. Sheila comes back into the dining room, putting her phone away. 

"She's managed to fit us in at eight.. what's wrong?" She asks, having been absent for what would have truly killed her. 

Kyle shoots up, hand slamming on the table as he pushed himself to a standing position. He runs upstairs, already bawling. He slams his bedroom door, tearing through his closet. He puts on some street clothes and his shoes. He grabs his wallet, keys, and phone and hurries back down the stairs. 

"Kyle! Kyle get back here!" His mother yells. Kyle doesn't listen. He's out the door and down the street in a few seconds. He can't remember the last time he was running this fast. His tears wash away with the summer wind on his face. He doesn't know where he's going until he's already at the driveway. He's light headed and dizzy from adrenaline. He's banging on the door of the only green house in this town. The door swings open and Kyle feels relief wash over him. He never thought he'd feel that with his eyes laid on the guy in front of him. He's panting a little hard. Gradually it stops and he sniffles with his cheek tear stained shining in the night.

"Can I come in?"


	4. Goodnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle releases a lot of built up tension with the help of Cartman. Later he sees Stan again, and while he runs fast, his fears are catching up to him in the dark.

"Can I come in?" Kyle asks, emerald eyes stuck on brown and blue ones. 

"Kyle? Dude.. you don't look good." A very memorable and unique voice says. 

"I don't feel good." Kyle admits. "Can I please come in?" He asks, quieter this time. The mismatching eyes soften. Right on time. As all eyes do for Kyle. 

"Yeah." The door is opened wider and the redhead steps in, looking around. Everything is the same but he just hasn't seen it in so long. 

"Thanks..Cartman." Kyle says, taking a seat on the couch hesitantly. The other guy turns the lights on in the living room and instantly spots the scratches around his throat. 

"Oh, my God." He says, stopping in his tracks. He's immediately assuming things, piecing things together. "Fuck.. did..did you get..r.." he starts tripping over his words. He can't even ask what he's thinking. He shakes his head. "What happened?"

Kyle reaches up and touches his throat. 

"Oh. No. Nothing happened. I.." he sighs. He's so truly tired from today. "I scratched myself really bad in my sleep. And then I got into it with Kenny. Then I said something in front of my mom, then Ike said some stuff and-" he sighs harder. "I don't know what to do, I'm sorry." He shakes his head. 

Cartman decides to believe whatever the hell he just said. He's not real sure what any of that meant but Kyle is calm so he decides to be too. 

He takes a seat on the right side of the couch at the very end, head turning a bit to the guy on the left. He'd never tell, but he missed him so fucking much. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cartman asks. Kyle furrows his brows before looking up.

"What?" He asks, dumbstuck. He looks in those blue and brown eyes. "No.. no no no." Kyle shakes his head, so disappointed. 

It's Cartman's turn to ask what.

"Please don't talk to me like that." Kyle requests. The brunette scoffs, feeling irked already. 

"Look, I don't know how other people treat you, but my voice doesn't get any kinder than this." 

"That's my point." Kyle says. "When have you ever been kind to me? Everyone treats me so delicately but if anyone is gonna be different it's you." He looks up at him. "Don't treat me like a baby or a basket case." 

Cartman gives him a surprised look. Wasn't he supposed to treat him like this? It seemed everyone agreed upon being gentle with him quite a few months ago. But he'll be honest, he so badly wishes everything could go back to the way it was. 

"Are you sure?" He asks hesitantly. 

"Yes. Please be rude to me." 

Honestly Kyle hated everyone's soft pitiful looks. He hated his friends and family worrying about him constantly. The fact that Ike just practically told him to off himself hurt so bad but it was so refreshing. Albeit the statement went too far and was the cruelest thing, it was still extremely soothing to be treated like he could handle a few harsh words. Now that he thinks about it, he kind of enjoys the thought of Kenny getting rough and raising his voice at him. He can't remember the last time he was cussed at or chewed out. While it all sounds insane, it's a type of attention that he has lacked for months, making him feel relieved that he is still a person.

Cartman grins. 

"Okay." He agrees. He pauses for a second before carefully calling him his old awful nickname. "Dumb Jew."

"Fatass." Kyle replies with the same comfortable smile.

"So what do you want?" Eric asks in a rude voice, as if he has better stuff to do, as he has his whole life.

"Wanna just talk?" Kyle asks with a smile.

Kyle's phone vibrates. He picks it up, seeing Kenny is asking him questions again. He sighs and rolls his eyes so far back in his head that all Cartman can see is white. Kyle texts back that he's busy with family drama and he has to go. That shuts Kenny up for now. 

"About what?" Eric asks, choosing to not ask about whatever just happened on the phone screen.

Kyle shrugs. He closes his eyes and begins to think. He opens his eyes, seeing everything is different. He can hear the talking going on around him. 

They were sixteen at the time. They were in Wendy's living room. All the girls and guys were in a circle playing seven minutes in heaven. It was now Kyle's turn to spin. He was pretty giggly. He had been smoking pot all night. He figured this would be a good night considering he was about to kiss a girl in a closet. He spun the bottle but it didn't land on a girl. It landed on Cartman. Both Eric and Kyle burst into excuses in a dire attempt to respin. But that's not how the game was played. They were yelled at to finally go into the coat closet after dragging it out for about ten minutes. They were just desperately waiting for someone to stop them. But nobody did. In fact everyone encouraged it. 

In the darkness Kyle stood, back against one wall of the closet, Eric directly across from him, both of their arms crossed. The beat of the music was heavy and could be heard even through the door. It was pitch black inside. They were both trying to be quiet because they soon learned that they both breathed very loud and it was awkward. But eventually they started arguing over and over until Cartman yelled "shut up!", and Kyle came back with a "make me!" Then suddenly there was silence, throwing Kyle off. It was like he managed to make Cartman be quiet for once. He laughed, confused. 

"What's wrong? Did your words backfire?" He asked with a taunting tone. 

"Just shut up." Cartman mumbled, as if he were hurt. Kyle's smile fell. 

"What the hell happened?" He asked. There was only silence. "Cartman?" 

The silence remained. 

"What?" The redhead asked again, more frustrated, wanting to know what just changed. 

"I wish I could." Eric finally croaked out. 

"Wish you could what?" Kyle asked, looking puzzled into the blackness. "Make me shut up?" He laughed. "Why because my words hurt you?"

"No." He answered in a soft voice. He was so quiet and serious, it was starting to make Kyle feel concerned. 

"Then what do you mean?" 

Suddenly the door was opened, blinding both guys. Kyle groaned and shielded his eyes. He lowered his hand and Cartman was gone. When Kyle left the closet, Eric was nowhere to be found. He never figured out what he meant. 

"Kyle?" The same voice he heard in his memories asked. 

"Hmm?" Kyle raises his eyes to him. 

"Are you deaf? I've been asking you what you wanna talk about." 

"Oh." He says. He can't stop himself from asking. 

"Do you remember when we were at Wendy's when we were sixteen? And we were playing seven minutes in heaven and we got pushed to go in the closet?" 

Cartman looks so lost. 

"No? The fuck?" 

Kyle shakes his head. 

"You just said something that I never understood." 

"You hold onto shit." Cartman replies, getting up to get himself a drink. 

"You said you wanted to make me shut up." He says, making the brunette turn back around. 

"And? I've wanted you to shut up my whole life, you never questioned it before."

"Yeah but this time was different. It's like I hurt your feelings and you were quiet."

"I don't know what you want me to say. I don't know what you're talking about." He shrugs and continues in search for a canned soda in the fridge. Kyle looks to his hands, spaced out and confused. He so badly wanted to understand what he meant. It's not like he remembered all this time. It only just came to him. 

Cartman comes back in awhile, with his can in hands, sitting back down. He begins to guzzle down his soda. 

"So is that all you wanted to talk about?" 

Kyle shakes his head. 

"No. Did you miss me?" He looks up at him. He can see the confliction on the chubbier guy's face. 

"Mm…" He lowers his drink, looking to the right of himself. "Not really." 

Kyle gives a little glare. 

"Liar." 

Cartman scoffs. 

"Liar? I'm definitely not lying, your kind are the ones that lie." 

"Oh, you fucker." Kyle says with a grin spread across his face. Cartman sends the same look over to Kyle. Things were about to get really fun, really quick.

For a solid hour and a half the two went back and forth, bouncing off of each other with anger and pure aggression. It was so rough that they had to stand up and get inches from each other's faces. It was also the most frustration Kyle expressed in a long time. The argument got so loud that within ten minutes Cartman's mom was up, checked on them, then went back to bed.

"Trump?! Are you fucking serious?!"

"He's gonna make this country great again, Kyle!"

"He's gonna get us all killed by his fucking bigotry and toxic masculinity!" 

"You're just scared cause you're a whiny ass liberal!"

"I'm an independent!"

"So you're even bisexual with your political views?"

"You're the one using homophobia to distract everyone from the obvious fact that you're homosexual! You're so deep in the closet that you're finding Christmas presents!" 

"Oh, fuck you Jew! At least I have Christmas presents!"

"At least I still have a messiah to look forward to! Where the hell is yours?!"

"Probably hiding from you and your family so he doesn't get killed again!"

"You're such a bitch!"

"Well you're a dick!"

"Cock sucker!"

"Ass rammer!"

"Pillow biter!"

"Cum guzzler!"

Suddenly the two stop, breathing a bit hard. What are they even fighting about? Neither know or care. They just smile and laugh a bit. 

"That feels so good." Kyle says, making Eric cringe and laugh. 

"What?! Don't say that while you're panting."

Kyle laughs hard with him in response. 

"No, just to be yelling and fighting. I haven't done that in forever. No one argues with me. They just…" His smile diminishes. "Look at me so fucking sad." 

Cartman's grin fades as well. He takes a seat and pats the cushion beside him, signalling him to sit down. Kyle does so, sitting right next to the brunette. They just sit like that for a few minutes, Kyle staring down, Eric looking off around the house.

"What did you mean?" Kyle finally speaks, in such a low voice.

"Huh? When?"

"When you said you wanted to shut me up."

"Oh, God, Kyle!" He says, exasperated. "I don't know. I don't even remember saying it." 

"I think I know what you meant." The redhead says, trying to think of whatever else it could mean. 

"Oh, well, what is it?" Eric asks. Kyle stares at him for a second, tried to open his mouth to speak but the longer he looks into his multicolored eyes, he can't do it. His voice won't leave his throat. 

"Y-Ya know.." He clears his throat. "Nevermind. I don't.. think I know what I'm talking about." He laughs nervously. He drops his head, looking to the carpeted floor.

"What?" Eric says, growing curious. 

"I don't think I figured it out-"

"Well what was your idea?"

"Nah it's.. it's stupid-"

"Kyle."

Nervousness washes over the redheads face. 

"What? What did you think I meant?" Cartman asks, starting to be so curious that he can't not hear his idea.

Kyle mistakenly makes eye contact again and feels his stomach begin to somersault. There seems to be so much tension building in the air between them. Cartman begins to grow very serious.

"Kyle?" 

The break in the silence gives Kyle enough motivation to answer him. He moves forward, capturing the other nineteen year old's lips. Every muscle in their bodies tense up at once. While once wide, Eric's blue and brown eyes begin to flutter closed. While the redhead is initiating the kiss, Cartman puts forward a little pressure, returning it just a bit. After a few seconds Kyle eases back, breaking the kiss. He stays close though, feeling their breath mingle as he slowly sits back fully. 

"What the hell was that?" Eric asks, so many thoughts running through his mind while his heart begins to thump loudly in his chest. 

"Shut ya up, didn't it?" Kyle asks, beginning to laugh. Eric joins and they chuckle a bit but then it dies down and there the awkwardness and tension is again. They again make the mistake of making eye contact. Now it's Cartman's turn to kiss back. Kyle moves right with it, giving the brunette some confidence. Their bodies begin to relax and their minds stop racing so fast. Gradually Cartman moves his body forward, pushing Kyle to lay on the couch, his head rests on the arm of it. Their lips press over and over again, slowly introducing tongue. It's slow and nervous at first but the second Kyle bites down gently on Eric's bottom lip, he's done for. 

Eric pulls back, breaking the kiss and pressing his lips to the redheads neck. Kyle keeps his eyes closed as kisses trail down his scratched throat. A gasp, followed by a groan leaves his mouth when teeth sink into his flesh. His face begins to blush madly as a hickie is marked on his neck. The sight of his throat was going to be hell to try to explain to anyone. Between scratches and hickies, he'd surely be kink shamed or asked questions by a cop.

"Cartman." Kyle whispers, his fingers moving in his brown hair. "Wait." He whispers just as quietly as before. "That hurts." He groans, giving a pained expression. Just to be an ass, Cartman keeps sucking and biting hard for a few seconds more before stopping, and kisses the place where he's marked terribly dark. He kisses up his chin, returning to his lips. Hands begin to move now. Eric starts at Kyle's hips, fingers slipping up his shirt. They trail up to his chest, making the Jew question if Cartman can feel his beating heart on his fingertips. Their tongues begin to move together as said fingertips glide back down across his ribs and start to dip into his jeans. Alarms begin to go off in Kyle's head. They're loud and scary and it makes him push his hands on Eric's chest, backing him up off him. 

"Stop stop stop." He says, breathing so hard. Eric in fact does, caught so off guard he just freezes for a second. Kyle looks down, the hand remaining where it was at. He scoffs and pushes the hand away from his waistband. 

"Sorry, damn. I didn't mean to-" Eric starts, obviously about to make an excuse and an accusation in order to shield himself from rejection. 

"No, it's not you. I'm just not.." Kyle cuts him off. "I'm still.." he keeps trying. He sighs shallowly and sits up, noticing that somehow Cartman positioned himself between his legs. Did he mean to? He's so light headed and fuzzy he can't remember his legs moving to the rhythm of being laid down. "I'm a .." He looks up to the insecure facial expression on Eric. 

"I'm a virgin." He finally spits out. 

"What?" Is said in a voice that's kind of taunting but still very genuinely confused. 

"I've never..ya know." 

"Yeah no, I know what it means. I mean why?" 

Kyle gives quite a hurt look. 

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"Well.. how has it not happened?" 

"Because it just hasn't." Kyle snaps defensively, thinking he's belittling him. 

"But you're beautiful." Eric says, catching himself. He's quickly tense again while Kyle is awestruck. 

"What?" 

"I uh- I don't - I don't know what I said." Cartman says fast, moving completely away from him. He grabs his soda and walks away to the kitchen, chugging it. 

"Wait!" Kyle pushes back on the arm of the couch, standing up. 

"Maybe you should go home." The bigger guy suggests, almost insisting as he's already swallowed down the rest of his drink.

"Oh.." Kyle says, voice dropping. He feels a bit disappointed again. "Are you mad at me for that?" 

Eric almost trips, looking back at him.

"What? Since when do you care about that?"

"Since I don't want to lose you as a friend." 

The tension returns. 

"You won't." Cartman promises. He turns back to go to the kitchen. "So go home or sleep on my couch cause you're not sleeping with me." He says, meaning in his bed. 

"Didn't you want that just a few seconds ago?" Kyle asks, getting so cocky so quickly. Getting in that loud argument was so damn freeing. He feels his personality attempting to blossom just a tad. 

"Actually, just go home." Cartman says, holding back laughter and embarrassment as he grabs another soda from his fridge after throwing the other empty can away. 

Kyle takes him up on it, feeling like he can handle what's waiting for him now. 

"You sure about that?" He asks loud enough for him to hear from the living room. 

"Yes, get the fuck out of my house, Jew." Cartman yells right back, snapping open the new can. Kyle keeps his cocky grin and makes sure he has his belongings. He steps to the door. 

"Goodnight!" He calls. 

"Whatever!" He hears back. 

He leaves the green house, walking off the lawn to the sidewalk. He looks up, face flushing to white. His chest tightens and all he can see is that face that haunts his dreams. He's 10 feet away from his ex best friend who looks so pissed off he could tear Kyle to shreds. In a fight or flight manner, Kyle begins to run home as fast as he did to come over here. He doesn't look back, he just hurries home and flies in the door, slamming it closed and locking it up. 

"Fuck!" Ike exclaims, having just jerked awake from his quick nap on the couch. "What the fuck is wrong?" He asks, getting ready to defend himself in a fight if Kyle is still angry.

Kyle feels so shaken up again. He turns to Ike. 

"Why are you down here?" He asks after looking about the room. 

"I was waiting up for you. Where were you?" 

"I was.. just.. chilling with a friend." He says, realizing he is bad at lying when scared. 

"Okay?" Ike says. It's so dark in the house. All the lights are off. 

"Where are they?" Kyle asks, referring to their parents.

"Went to bed. Couldn't stay up worrying any longer." Ike answers. He sighs and walks over, putting his head down. 

"I'm sorry." He apologizes. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean it. I was just mad." However, he doesn't sound sorry and it's because he's still pissed off. And Kyle accepts that. 

"It's okay. Thank you for saying it."

Ike looks up, baffled.

"What?"

"You talked to me like a person. You were actually mad at me. No one is ever mad at me anymore. Of course it hurts like fuck, and it will probably stay with me forever, but I really needed someone to speak to me like that." Kyle explains. 

"Oh. Well..o..okay?" Ike says so unsure. He watches his brother head upstairs in the dark. 

"Goodnight." Kyle says upon departing. 

"Goodnight." Ike mumbles, at a loss for words. 

Kyle enters his bedroom, kicks off his shoes and strips, trying to lay back down and go to sleep until it's time for the appointment.

It takes a long while but he finally gets there, falling in a deep sleep once again, unaware of his fears that are about to attack him even harder.


	5. I'm Aware

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle is fighting vivid dreams and he's not winning. He goes to therapy and confesses all his sins, but some are relayed back to his mother. He is told to relax, so he tries. Yet, nothing is working and he's left in a storm of madness.

There are lips on his neck, nails dragging across his collar bones, bodies pressed against him. The void engulfs them. Their voices echo and waver in a glitching manner.

"I swear to God, Kyle, I promise you he misses you." Resonates in one ear.

"You're beautiful." Whispers into the other. 

Anticipation builds in his veins and stomach and it all disappears as the voice from behind him grows loud and vicious. 

"Stop! Stop, right the fuck now!" He's shoved forward, hitting the dusty ground beneath his feet. His head hits a rock, making him groan loudly in pain. "That's not how this works!" He pushes himself up and touches his head, blood pouring where his scar is supposed to be. He begins to crawl across the ground, finding himself in front of someone's feet. He looks up carefully, seeing the blonde guy who kissed him in the park just a day ago. He bends down, attempting to get eye to eye with him as he cups Kyle's chin and tilts it up. 

"You don't get to treat me how Stan treats you." He says in a sick voice that leaves the redhead terrified. Suddenly someone to his right kicks him hard in the side. He rolls over, yelling out in pain. He holds his ribs, feeling that they're broken. The figure that he's seen in the night, that seems to always make him lock his doors, stands over him. He reaches down, grabbing hold of Kyle's right cheek, pushing hard until the bone snaps beneath the surface of his skin. He cries louder, jerking around to try and stop him. But the hand from before comes wrapping around his throat, this time adding two fingers down his throat. The sensation feels so familiar, to be held so firmly about the neck and having something shoved forcefully down into his mouth. He chokes for quite a bit, trying his best to breathe. He can't possibly get the air in. He reaches up, nails sinking into the hands again. This time he manages to raise his fist, slugging his friend off him, but it hurts so bad it leads him to scream out louder. His tear filled eyes look up as he lays on his back. This void has a glass roof above them and it's starting to shatter. He can hear it so clearly, like an iced over pond giving way. He tried to get up to run but black leather straps come from the black ground and wrap around his torso, legs, neck and wrists, holding him down on his back to watch the massive glass shards to come down on him. The second the falling glass reaches his eyes, he wakes up, gasping for air as he raises to a sitting position. The light is on and every single family member is in the room. Gerald is sitting on his oldest son's bed, sharing the same scared and concerned look at the rest of them had. Kyle reaches up, touching his throat, his face, and checking his ribs. 

"Kyle." His dad speaks in a very serious tone. "Are you okay?" 

Emerald eyes bounce around the room and he nods. He blinks for awhile, feeling so confused. 

"Kyle you have to tell us what's going on." Gerald says. 

Kyle lays back down, holding his hand now. It hurts so fucking back. He looks at it and it's red and dusty. He grows utterly lost and looks to his left. He just slammed his fist right through the drywall. Fuck. He sits up again and takes his time to adjust. 

"Um.. I just.. have violent dreams."

"Yeah, no shit." Ike says, gawking at the hole in the wall. 

"Ike, go downstairs." Their mother demands. The fourteen year old rolls his eyes far back into his head while his parent’s gaze are on his older brother. He turns to the open bedroom door and exits to go find himself a seat at the kitchen table downstairs.

Kyle’s gem eyes pick up, looking into his father’s. They’re filled with something worse than usual. It’s heavy and haunting. Perhaps it’s grief, or simply apprehension. Whatever it is, it’s making the teen’s muscles tighten. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asks so quietly, as if he didn’t just have a nightmare so bad he threw his fist into the wall. But he’s not asking regarding his actions, he’s asking why the look is so damn fearful. 

“Kyle, we’re not giving you a choice. You have to tell us what you’re dreaming about.” His dad speaks, swallowing hard over the very obvious lump in his throat. The teen’s eyes dart to his mother’s. The expressed emotion in her eyes is ten times worse than his dad’s. He hesitates, his jaw locking and heart began to pound in distress. He can’t get out of this one. God, did he hate confrontation. He used to be so different. He would go right up to someone and confront them if they lied or talked shit about him. He would face the injustice in the world. That’s exactly why he wanted to go to law school. What the fuck happened to him?

“Look,” He starts, having to clear his throat. He looks around the room, unable to make eye contact. “I uh..do you want details?” He asks, looking back to his parents for only a second. 

“We’ll take whatever you can give us, but it would be helpful to hear the details.” His dad answers. Kyle nods in return, his head dropping down to look at the throbbing hand cupped in his other palm. He goes to speak, having to think about the dreams. He’s hit with the visions of hands on his body. He coughs and shakes his head, not about to tell that part to anybody. It would be better to skip it. 

“Uh, just..” He clears his throat again, trying to get it out. He reaches up with his right hand, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I used to have bad dreams but they were just weird and replays of the accident or other accidents, but lately it’s uh, ya know. My friends.”

“Which ones?” Gerald asks, as if his son still had friends. “Wendy?”

“No!” He answers quick, maybe too quick. He blushes a bit at the thought of Wendy being in the beginning of his dreams. “Like Kenny, ...Stan.” He finally chokes out. The mention of the name makes the atmosphere grow thick and heavy. “I dunno. I’m in this kind of darkness. There’s ground and sky but I can’t really tell the difference. I don’t know why but I end up getting kind of strangled-” He immediately informs that it’s not any kind of wanted action, but rather terrifying and suffocating. “I dunno, it’s like I felt it before. Something around my throat or down my throat. It’s uncomfortable and hurts.” His eyes are all over the place, scanning the floor and walls, memorizing every wrinkle in the blanket on his lap or lines on the wooden dresser. “This time he was on top of me and I managed to get him off.” He now raises his hand, explaining the cavity in the wall. 

“He?” His dad asks. At this point Kyle is questioning why only his dad is asking questions. He can recall the breaking in his mother’s voice when she told his brother to leave. He’s considering the idea that if she speaks she might burst into tears. 

“Um,” Kyle starts. Why was saying his name so difficult? Over the span of a year, saying his name has gone from curious questions to blasphemous murmurs. “Stan.” He says, forcing it to sound casual instead of embarrassing, but it still feels embarrassing considering the stillness in the room. 

“Kyle, you don’t have anything to fear. Stan isn’t going to bother you anymore-”

“I saw him.” The teen finally blurts, head fully down, not about to look up anytime soon. 

“In your dreams?”

“Outside the house.”

“What?” 

Although, that voice makes Kyle raise his head. That ‘what?’ didn’t come from his dad. It came from his mother and it wasn’t her signature freaking out, but a petrified whisper. She’s white as a ghost, looking like she might pass out right there. 

“He.. he was outside.” He glances from his mom to his dad and back. “He just watches me like he could eat me if he wanted to. He was at Cartman’s too. As if he knew I was gonna be there.” He says the last sentence softer in thought to himself. 

“Cartman’s?” Gerald asks, more confused about that than the fact that Stanley Marsh was just watching their son. Now Kyle’s eyes are the ones filled with fear as he makes immediate eye contact with the man in front of him. He felt like he was caught in some sort of lie. He lowers his head, mumbling a ‘goddamnit’ under his breath as he begins to get out of bed.

“Gerald.” Sheila says, grasping his shoulder for support. She doesn’t have to say another word. He stands and ushers his wife out of the room before she implodes or breaks down crying. 

“Get dressed, okay? We’ll talk more about this later.” He says to his son before shutting his door behind them. 

Kyle watches them leave then looks back to the hole beside his bed. He feels the adrenaline surge through his body for just a second before turning to the closet. He picks out some jeans and a thin comfortable shirt. He had to be comfortable if he was going to the therapy office. If not he absolutely would be a bitch, more than he already was when there. 

Whilst getting ready, his eyes drop to the phone on his nightstand. He takes a deep breath and picks it up after collecting his socks from one of his drawers. He types in his password, which was “kaleidoscope." Why? He had no idea. He just had to change his password one day and chose that word. His phone opens and he’s got texts in the night from Kenny. His thoughts rush to the blood pouring from his forehead. He reaches up, fingers slipping under his hat and hair to graze the deep scar that stretches about four inches above his brow. His hand lowers back to his phone. 

“I just really think we should talk. You seem really overwhelmed and I’m not sure why or what happened but I’m really worried about you.” Was the text he got at 11:26 last night. Geez, how many times was he going to say “really”? He sighs and texts back. 

“I’m fine. I have therapy this morning. I’ll text ya later.” He presses send but immediately kind of regrets it. Why was he so annoyed with Kenny? He didn’t actually do anything. Kyle’s starting to consider that he's only mad because of the way Kenny acts in his dreams. While it's unfair, he doesn't know how to entirely shake it besides giving himself time to adjust. The idea that these dreams are anything more than wild intrusive thoughts from his subconscious makes him shudder. A sudden sharp pain comes from his stomach. He's starving.

He walks downstairs, seeing it's 5:45 on the stove clock. The family woke up pretty early due to Kyle's sleepful tantrum. He feels a bit of guilt on his shoulders for it. He takes a seat at the table, taking out his phone. He texts Wendy. 

"Hey, I know it's early, but I have therapy today and I wanted to see if we could hang later."

Usually Kyle would be drained from this much social interaction. He's spent such little time around so many people in comparison to his entire time this year. 

Emerald eyes raise and look over at the adolescent boy with black hair. Ike is barely holding his head up. 

"Why don't you go back to bed?" The redheaded guy asks. Ike shrugs. He has spent his last high school summer messing around, wasting time. He will be a fourteen year old high school senior in a few months. He doesn't have a lot to do with that in mind. However, he has been taking his time to read during the day and sneak off with friends at night. He would go off with Karen McCormick and Tricia Tucker, who they usually just called Ruby. They would all go to the woods and smoke stolen buds from both Kenny's and Craig's stashes. They'd smoke and snack until they felt sick and dizzy. They'd laugh and cry and scream to get the rage out. But no one ever knew. No one watched them. All eyes were on their older siblings. 

However, currently Ike had an option. He could mess with others in town like he used to. 

In the past, Ike developed a love for societal experimentations. He would scare people and analyse their responses. Or randomly pin two people against each other, such as couples or strangers on the street. He would watch to see their sudden emotions cloud their judgement and primal instincts come alive. Now he is given some time to do something again. With that, he gets up, grasping the opportunity, and leaves upstairs.

Kyle looks to his dad who is drinking coffee and looking at his own phone. He hadn't noticed, but his father looked so stressed and old lately. As if he's aged prematurely.

"What do you want for breakfast, Kyle?" Sheila asks. He turns his head to his mother who is gathering ingredients despite an answer being given yet. 

"Cereal is fine." He answers, getting up to fix it himself. 

His dad clears his throat, gaining his attention. Kyle looks over, seeing his dad shake his head. Kyle catches on quick. 

"Or, you can make me something else?" He says so unconfident it sounds like a question. He looks to his mom, who clearly wants to provide for her son in a way that is guaranteed to be successful. "Pancakes?" He says, that being the only breakfast food to come to mind. He hadn't eaten breakfast food in forever. She perks up and gets right on it. He hesitantly takes his seat again. 

He looks around at them and shifts in his seat. He looks to his phone as it vibrates. A rush comes over his whole body. Bubbles build in his stomach as his face burns and his hips tingle. It's Cartman. 

"Hey Jew. You get home safe? Not like I care tho."

His heart is pounding and he's so unsure on why that is. 

"Yeah. Why are you awake?" He texts back.

"Work. Gotta go to the movie theatre soon. Clean up concession stands and popcorn from every screening room. Regular FML stuff." 

Kyle smiles very slightly at his phone. 

"When do you go in?"

"Shift starts at 8. I leave the house at 7:30."

"Oh, I'm so sorry I kept you up late, then." Kyle responds before actually thinking about what he said. Of course he actually felt that way, but he didn't mean to say it to Cartman. There's a long pause and every minute that passes by makes him anxious. 

"What? Don't. Idgaf." Comes through at first, making Kyle breathe easier. When Kyle begins to text back, there's a double text.  
"Besides, I liked last night." That makes his heart flutter. What the fuck even was this? He can't wipe the smile from his face, but he sure is trying to bite it away. He takes a breath and thinks. How was he supposed to play this? Maybe if he made it playful, Cartman would bounce off him and continue it, or maybe he wouldn't understand the tone and it would be stupid and embarrassing as shit. Maybe Cartman's last text wasn't playful at all, but just blatant. He shakes his head to stop the racing thoughts. He finally texts back.

"I liked last night too. I really missed you. Sorry I disappeared for so long." 

With that he clicks off his phone. Suddenly his breakfast is placed in front of him. He blinks at the massive mountain of fluffiness. There's five huge pancakes smothered in butter and syrup inches from himself. He glances back at his mother then to the plate again. 

"Are these for everyone?" He asks. 

"No, they're for you." 

"Oh. Okay." He says, picking up his fork and beginning to eat slowly. After another twenty minutes, he's desperately trying to get to his last pancake in. Ike finally returns. Kyle looks to his left and chokes on his last bite of cakey breakfast due to the sight in front of him.

Ike's hair is side swept to the left, a pink plastic barrette is holding it there. His whole face is contoured and glittery. His cheeks and nose have a tint of blush dusted across them. His eyes are covered by pink sparkling eyeshadow, mixed with nude mattes colors for shading on his lids. His eyeliner is winged, eyelashes long and black when masked in mascara. His lips are pink and glossy. He's wearing some tiny white crop top with thick red trim that reads "FAB GANG" in rainbow colors. His shorts are denim and tight, showing off shaved legs. He's got knee high rainbow socks and white vans on. He looks around at the shocked faces at the kitchen table. 

"What?" He asks, just like his brother last night.

"You look gay." Kyle says, smiling in pure amusement. 

"It's my Pride outfit from last June." Ike says, sneering. "Besides, isn't that your profession?"

"A career in homosexuality?" Kyle asks, still amused. "Didn't realize I could profit from that."

"Of course you can. Corporations do it constantly." Ike says, not catching on to his joking manner yet. 

"Ike, are you sure you wanna go out in that?" Gerald asks. 

All eyes are on Sheila. She hasn't spoke. She's not exploding. Kyle's heart is breaking because it's his fault. She's so out of it, barely listening or engaging in conversation. He can see the stress lines deepening in her face. 

"It's an experiment to see exactly how others will act when forced to confront something that is challenging to their minds." 

"Explain." Gerald responds, whilst eating his own stack of flapjacks. 

"Well, most people in this town specifically fear judgement by peers. They fear anything they do could be interpreted as racist, homophobic, transphobic, or anything intolerant, which would result in immediate judgment and name calls. They fear this so much that they tend to bend over backwards much more than necessary to please the specific person who is different. However, at the same time, there are few people out here who would look me up and down and say 'wow, what a fag' and move on, or maybe try to belittle and intimidate me. But don't worry, I got it all under control." He assures his father and starts to devour the food that is now placed in front of him. 

"Whatever you say. Just stay safe." Gerald says, muffled through syrup and cake. 

"Of course." Ike responds. 

"So, what is the plan?" Kyle asks, knowing his little brother well enough to know that he is up to no good. Ike sends a look. 

"Don't worry about it."

That meant he was going to have a busy day. Kyle accepts it. 

Eventually everyone gets dressed and ready to go their separate ways. Gerald is going to work. Ike is going into town to create chaos. And Sheila is taking Kyle to therapy. 

It's quiet in the car. The sky is gloomy and grey. It's just like it was the other day. The sun isn't even visible. It's cold for summer weather. It's one of those days again.

Kyle looks to his mother. She hasn't said a word. And it's his fault. He knows it. He looks away and takes out his airpods, connecting them with his Bluetooth on his phone. He goes to YouTube. Something compels him to play a certain song. A song he really only heard as a joke to make fun of a friend. 

"My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why I got out of bed at all. The morning rain clouds up my window and I can't see at all. And even if I could it'll all be grey, I put your picture on my wall. I reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad." He remembers hearing this crazy Slim Shady song years ago when looking up songs that fit their friends names. It was a running joke for a week that Stan was insane like the song, but now that Kyle's thinking about it, he's not so sure if it's funny anymore. 

He gets a shiver up his spine as the thoughts rush through his head. The sight of Stan across the street, even when he wasn't at home is leaving him dizzy. How did he know? Who told him he was at Cartman's? Suddenly the hickey on his neck aches. He's hidden it just fine behind one of the flaps on his hat and his red long curls that he has refused to trim. He remembers the night before and it's such a rush. His mind has changed so quickly from fearful to freaky. He takes out his phone and checks the time. He texts Cartman. 

"Hey. You busy?" He gets an answer immediately.

"Not rn. Got lost watching YouTube. What's up?"

All of a sudden, he doesn't know what to say. 

"Are we friends?" There's a pause.

"Yes? Why?"

Kyle gives so many different answers, half of them are questions themselves and he deletes them all. 

"No reason, sorry." Kyle rolls his eyes and leaves over, curling in on himself, head in his own lap, limp and ready to die. Why is he like this? He is so weird. So fucking strange. He can't even speak to people without sounding like a pussy. He would never have spoken to Eric like this a year ago. So why now? Cartman is still Cartman isn't he? Or did he change too? Did Stan make them change? His phone buzzes.

"Dude, are you okay?"

Again he writes one hundred different answers. He doesn't know what to say. Act like he usually does? Act how he used to? Say yes? Say no? Say what he saw? Say who he saw? Tell him about his dream? Tell him he's crazy? .. yes. 

"I'm on my way to therapy and nervous. Sorry. I want to talk and not be alone but I don't know what to say so I'm spewing nonsense." 

Kyle is realizing he's Alice in a Wonderland. He is constantly doing strange things, seeing Cheshire cats with mad grins, hanging out at night trying to find home but it's in the form of a person. Nothing he does is accurate. He's truly finding himself to be undone. Why is he so questionable? That question is a question that questions itself. 

"Kyle-"

"Oh, thank God." Kyle says exasperated, pulling the pods from his ears. A human voice wakes him from the small mental breakdown he just had in the passenger seat of a Prius. He sits up and sees the therapy office. For the first time ever he wants to be here.

He goes in and in half an hour he is taken back. 

"Kyle, you were just here." His therapist says. 

"Yes, I'm aware." He says, taking a seat. 

"Your mother said it was an emergency."

"Yes, I'm aware." 

"... So what's wrong?"

Magically, he opens up for the first time ever. He explains he has gone out with friends, kissed two guys, one a mortal enemy, has seen his ex best friend and is now having violent dreams that leave him with a hurt hand and throat. This goes on for the full hour and even ten minutes past that. He's cried the whole time, seriously overwhelmed, over all scared, and guilty for his mother's silence. He tells her about the hickey and scratches on his neck, the fist through the wall, the dreams and how oh so vivid they are. He cries that he has no friends and he's going insane. She listens. 

She tells him he needs to relax and do things to release his stress, perhaps he pushed too far and too quickly to get out of his comfort zone and is now overwhelmed by it. She comments on how proud she is of him for doing things that seem scary that he hasn't done in a year. She walks him to the waiting room door and he goes out, and then to the car as always, leaving his parent to care for the rescheduling. Little does he know that his therapist spoke with his mother about their session, which while illegal due to doctor/patient confidentiality, is necessary for this situation. 

Kyle is soon in the passenger seat again and is buckled up, listening to his YouTube playlist of songs. He is thinking about everything they talked about. He knows he has to decompress. He doesn't know how. He has agoraphobia. It shouldn't be that hard to relax but it actually is considering he can't relax how other people do. People go home, bathe, watch tv, focus on themselves for hours, not answer texts to avoid difficult confrontation, but he does that everyday. Those aren't coping skills for a rough day to decompress, those things are his normal daily routine. He needs something intensely relaxing. Then it hits him. He feels pretty dumbstruck that he didn't think about it before. But truly, he's been too upset. 

"Kyle I'm going to drop you off at home, I have to go to work then I'll be right back so you're not alone." Truly she doesn't want to go into work, but she doesn't have a choice.

"That's fine, mom. I'm gonna be fine." He assures her. And he is. 

When he gets home, he has the whole house to himself. He decides to try to finally relax fully, how he knows he can and should. He finds a seat on the couch and tries to get comfortable. He looks at his hands and his lap and tries to gather thoughts in his head. He reaches to his pants and unbuttons them. It's so loud compared to the silent and still house. He turns on the tv and realized he can't just simply turn it on. The news is playing. He can't relax while hearing about stressful politics and gang violence. He turns it but every channel is a turn off. He goes to YouTube on the Roku and tries to find some kind of music. It can't just be on his phone, it has to play in the house, so none of the inanimate objects can hear his shame. He searches for 15 minutes for music that is worthy. Finally he finds something and continues with the task at hand. He unzips his pants and suddenly he's aware that he's on the couch. In the living room. Where his entire family .. lives. He shakes his head and makes a disgusted noise. He leaves to his bedroom but keeps the music going for a distraction. He leaves his bedroom door open as he lays back on his bed. He stares up at his ceiling and takes a deep breath. Why is this so difficult? He hasn't done this in forever and he has so many intrusive thoughts. He swallows hard and slips his hand into his boxers. He closes his eyes and takes himself in his hand but he doesn't move. His mind is blank and racing all at once. He reaches up with his left hand that is free, and strokes his own hair, his hat moving off by consequence. He thinks about the kisses in the park, and the ones on his friends couch. The hickey on his neck never felt so warm as he remembers how he got it. He remembers the slight painful sensation of teeth on his throat. He remembers the fingers gliding on his skin, the pressure in his body and in the air. How far would they have gone if Kyle hadn't have stopped him? Images blossom in his mind, the idea of his friends mouth on his body makes him feel something. He thinks of his blonde friend getting rough with him, raising his voice just a bit, being so stern. It's twisted in his mind into something profoundly different. The idea of seeing his friend grin and pin him to a wall is a bit of a secret giggle. Kyle begins to get somewhere, a wave of niceness, then suddenly nothing as he remembers the person outside of his house. He sighs and drops his hands, pulling them from his hair and jeans. He groans heavily. 

"I'm going to be stressed forever." He whispers to himself. He considers asking for help. Calling a certain kinky friend. However there are so many problems with that. He can't ask someone else to help, he's a virgin and nervous and this is why he is stressed. Nothing is helping. He feels guilty for so many things and thinking of his friends while attempting to masturbate is in the top ten. How would they feel if they knew? Would they be disgusted with him? He sighs softly and closes his eyes. His thoughts run away with him. They become distorted and quiet as he relaxes for a second. 

He calls Kenny anyways. After one ring there is an answer. 

"Hello?"

"Hey. What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Gotta go to work later so I'm chilling before then." 

"Do you wanna come over and hang out before you go?"

"Yeah, sure." 

That's the end of it. Friendship has never been so simple, but it's about to become complicated. Kyle gets up and walks downstairs. He waits and soon Kenny is at his door. He opens it and the blonde walks in. Instantly blue eyes are on the redhead's crotch. 

"Dude, your pants are open."

"I'm aware." Kyle answers as he closes the door. He goes to the couch and sits down. "Can you help me with something?" He asks before even asking Kenny about his day, which in retrospect is rude as shit. 

"Sure, what is it?" Ken offers his help instantly. He takes a seat by the redhead and sees the nervousness on his face. 

"I really need to.." He pauses. "Relax." He finally spits out. "And I can't." 

"Oh." Kenny digs around in the cigarette pack from his hoodie pocket. He retrieves a half smoked joint from it. "You wanna smoke some more?" 

"No, that's not what I mean." He eyes the joint between the teen's fingers. "But yes." 

They gladly help themselves to the smoke and are both soon nostalgic.

"I mean I really need to.. Ya know?" Kyle keeps trying, now everything is blurry as hell. 

"Know what?" Ken asks, dropping the roach back into the pack when they're done. 

"Like.." Kyle turns his head to the left, to look at Kenny. He sits up and leans in close. "Ya know." He mumbles before kissing his lips. There's an intense feeling. It's so strong and real. 

Ken pursues this, pushing Kyle on his back and towering over him. 

"Your pants are open." The blonde says as his hand pulls them down a bit more. 

"I'm aware." Kyle answers as he watches him. The boxers ride down low on his hips until his member is revealed. For some reason, while in completely new territory and vulnerable, Kyle is just fine. 

Ken holds him in his hand, stroking slowly. He kisses the redhead hard before he trails down his body, kissing every inch. He continues along his circumcised length, making Kyle inhale deeply when tongue is involved. Their eyes connect until Kyle's eyes close and his head moves back a bit. He can feel the warmth and wetness of his friend's mouth. That too is so real. Kyle looks up above himself and there are those eyes. But they're not diamond. They belong to the sea.

A loud jolting crack of thunder explodes above Kyle's room, vibrating his walls as he wakes up and he sees what he saw before he fell asleep; his ceiling. He sits up on his bed and looks at the windows in his room. It's black outside instead of grey. The wind is whistling and the rain is pouring down. He looks down to his opened pants. A very warm hard on rests between his legs, as if taunting him for the dream he just had. He sighs deeply. 

He fixes his jeans and looks to his phone that is lit up. He opens it and sees a text from Wendy. 

"Can't. It's raining like hell outside :("

Kyle, in this dazed state simply replies:

"I'm aware."


	6. Public Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle finally relaxes and makes up with Kenny. He also discovers a sweet brotherly moment with Ike.

The rain pelts down on the roof like pebbles on glass. It's loud and a bit violent yet distant thudding. The heat between his thighs remain. While the redhead planned to ignore it, the opportunity is here still. He pushes himself up to a sitting position instead of this lounging-laid-back-on-elbows placement. He looks to his phone on the blanket and takes it in his hand. He types his password "kaleidoscope" quickly and goes to his Facebook messenger. There's all his old texts, and he would be more sentimental and concerned about the past but he's so hungry the more he thinks about it. He doesn't want to waste a second of this stupid chance at relief. He clicks on his and Kenny's conversation and goes to the pictures that's been sent throughout their entire timeline. He's not sure what he's doing until he's doing it. He didn't have pictures of the blonde on hand anymore. So digging up old ones had to do. He clicks on a selfie of Kenny that was sent over a year ago. He had been smoking and was smiling so goofy, as if he took it whilst in the middle of a laugh. His eyes were red and foolish. His crooked teeth and blue eyes complimented his face so much. 

"Fuck." Leaves Kyle's lips as something inside takes control. 

His left hand holds the phone as his right hand dips into his underwear. He pushes his boxers back to give his hand some room as he strokes himself. He holds his member firmly, rubbing up his shaft then down again to his base. His left thumb swipes across his phone screen to another picture. This one is of the blonde sitting in his dad's truck while parked in the City Wok parking lot, behind the establishment. Ken had demanded for the truck that day and while on break, took a small nap. He had just woken up and shot Kyle a text, saying how bullshit his job was. The look on his face was perfect. The annoyance on his lips, slight hostile glimmer in his eyes, his cheeks pink from the freezing cold weather outside of the truck. It's leaving Kyle twitching and breathing more shallow. His jaw locks as it usually did whenever he was touching himself. His teeth almost grind from the pressure building up in his body. 

It's at this point that he's noticing the music from downstairs is still playing. He doesn't care but he notices when the song changes. He picks up the tune quickly.

"Oh here we go, please let me know. Off we go, don't leave me in the cold." Echoes up the stairs and to his open bedroom door. 

One thumb slides across the phone screen while the other swipes across his swollen tip. A soft laugh comes from his lips before they lock back again. He had found a few pictures of the blonde taking silly selfies in his bathroom mirror. Ken's face was so twisted in a comical way. He goes to another, landing on a picture of Kenny that Kyle not so secretly took while they sat in Taco Bell. The grin on Ken's mouth is making him weaker. Why did his smile have to do that to him? Why did his eyes have to have that glimmer? Why did he shine like that? Why is he so intimidating and a tease? Why is he so Godly, holy, a goddamn miracle manifested?

"I thought you would stay with me. I'm yours and you're mine, I envy." Plays along in a heavy beat, mixing with the gasps Kyle's beginning to give off. He holds himself tighter, stroking faster. He swipes to a video, a mother fucking treasure. Ken had taken a fatuous video of himself in a swimming outfit, showing it off. It was at the beginning of July last year, when things were good. Ken moved his fingers through his dirty blonde hair the whole time while giving a little overlook of himself. He looked back at the camera while showing his swim trunks and body from all angles. His hips swayed a bit, acting so cocky. Ken knew he looked good despite the silly little shrug he gave as if to say "I have no fucking clue what I'm doing, dude." 

Kyle's eyes are stuck on those hips, the way he moves them, his ribs when he breathes in and touches his swim trunks just a bit to show off the pockets. He stares at the fingers gliding through blonde locks. He begins to hyperventilate as every muscle tenses and his hand moves faster and faster. The phone shakes as his left hand trembles, threatening to fall from his grip. He shudders and holds his breath as his eyes close and head falls back. His mind snaps back to the other night, kissing his friend in the park. He can feel Ken's tongue on his own, their lips together, their teeth click against each other's once. He shakes as he cums hard onto his boxers and hand. He breathes in deeply, gasping for air. He relaxes as he releases the last bit he has inside. He lets his phone go and looks to his right hand.

"If I took you everywhere, then well, you wouldn't know how to walk. If I spoke on your behalf, then well, you wouldn't know how to talk." Resonates in the bedroom. Kyle sighs in a bit of disgust. What did he just do? "If I gave you everything and everything is what I bought. I can take it all back, I never cared 'bout what you thought." Plays before the song cuts off. 

He sits there for awhile, resting, dazed and confused. The rain beyond his bedroom window is falling so hard it resembles the sound of hail. He finally manages to stand and go clean himself up. He washes his hands good and rinses off his boxers where they were soiled. He put them in the laundry basket in the bathroom before going and putting on some new ones, along with better pants. He looks to his phone, making sure nothing got on it. It's fine. He sighs and looks around his room. At least he's calm. Why did he need to relax, again? He decides he should text Kenny back. It's the least he could do considering he went from being mean to him, to jerking off to old pictures of him on a social media site that they stopped using a long time ago.

"Hey." He sends, nothing more. Kind of rude. 

"Hey, dude." Comes right back at him. Ken must've already been on his phone.

"You at work?"

"No. I go in at three. What's up?" 

Kyle appreciates how Kenny talks more than Cartman when they text. Or maybe Kyle just feels more cared about by the blonde.

"I'm sorry about what I said. And for what I haven't said. I've been having nightmares about you and it's hard to be around what I'm dreaming of." He says, so fucking blatantly honest. Usually he might hide it all, but he just ejaculated for the first time in forever and half of his brain is pretty mushy from it now. He's got that stupid look on his face, he can feel it. He winces as a sharp hunger pain stabs him. Seems he lost more than just brain function. He needs calories.

"Woah what? What are you dreaming about dude? Are you okay?" 

Kyle glances at the phone as he goes downstairs, thinking Ken is just so sweet. He stops as his hand brushes across something wet. He looks down and feels sickened by himself. Seems he made more of a mess than he saw before. He pockets his phone and hurries to clean his hand and shirt. He discards the clothing and finds a tank top from his closet. It's green with Smokey the Bear's face on it. It was just a cool thing he found at Target. He walks downstairs again, being more successful this time. He clicks on his phone, types in the password, then answers Kenny. 

"It's just kind of stupid, ya know? Kind of scary. It doesn't matter. I'm fine. Just sorry for being dickish." He apologizes then puts his phone on the counter when he reaches the kitchen. He begins looking through cabinets. He doesn't see anything that looks back at him. Nothing is grabbing his attention. He tries the fridge and nothing. He checks the freezer and decides to finish off the half a tub of ice cream left in the back. He grabs it and a spoon and then his phone. He settles at the table, finding condensation is already on his hand from the ice cream container. If he could stop having wet hands, that would be great. He sighs and gets up to grab a hand towel.

He opens the specific rag drawer by the stove and picks a fuzzy brown hand towel. He walks back to the kitchen table and noticed the phone buzzing. Shit. Ken's calling. Kyle looks at it, not so sure if he should answer, or if he even can answer. He hesitantly picks it up and swipes the answer button.

"Hello?" He asks on command.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Ken asks. The sound of his voice makes the redhead take a deep breath.

'Mother fucker.' He mouthed silently to himself as he moves the phone away from his ear. His body is perking right up to the sound of the guy existing on the other line. He clears his throat and puts the phone back to his ear.

"Yeah, man. I'm fine." He answers calmly, as if he hadn't just got done pleasuring himself to this guy ten minutes ago.

"You sure? What are you dreaming about?" There is so much concern in Kenny's voice. It's making Kyle feel so good and yet so guilty. 

"Oh, it's nothing, dude. I don't even really remember them." He lies as he takes a seat in the wooden kitchen chair. He's confused on why he was so honest a minute ago and now clammed up. How can he be shy yet bold? That's not how old him would act.  
"Actually." Kyle finally pipes up and gives in. "Can I be honest?" 

"Yeah. Of course, dude." Ken replies, surprise in his voice despite his poor efforts to mask it with a supportive tone.

"I get really sexual dreams that just turn into scary images." Kyle says without thought as he opens up the ice cream container. He holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he works the lid off. "I'm in this void and remember the kisses and everything. But then you just help hurt me." He grabs the spoon and hesitates as he notices the silence on the other side once he stops talking. But it's too long of a pause. Not a waiting-for-the-words-to-stop silence, but a silence that rings disbelief.

On the other line, Ken's mouth is just kind of hanging open, brows furrowed and eyes scanning the room as he looks so baffled, which he is. He looks around his bedroom, trying to understand what was just said. 

'What?' He mouthes to himself. He closes his mouth and keeps his lips pursed for a moment. He clears his throat and can only reply:

"I'm sorry?"

Kyle laughs hard as he almost chokes on the ice cream he just put in his mouth. He has to remove the phone a bit as he laughs and tries to swallow it down. The tone in his voice, the confusion, it's killing Kyle. 

Kenny laughs right back, hearing the redhead's giggles. 

"You what?" Ken asks again. 

"Just-" Kyle swallows his treat and tries to answer but he's low-key floundering. "Um, ya know. I-I get- they're sexual. Like, is that what you mean?" He asks, losing his own train of thought. "Wait." He shakes his head, registering that none of that made any sense. "What?" 

Ken drops the phone to his side, covering his mouth with his right hand. He begins to laugh so hard that he makes stupid little noises. He puts the device back to his ear, hearing Kyle laugh and try again. 

Kyle chuckles through the beginning of an explanation. 

"I'm sorry. I just woke up." He says, wondering how he even has motor skills considering he woke up then immediately masturbated. 

"I can tell." Kenny laughs, moving around his room to gather his things for work. 

"So, like." Kyle let's out one more chuckle. "Uh, I have these dreams." He says, starting to grow serious. "They're really vivid. Where, ya know. You're kissing me. And then you just hold me back or shove me down. I haven't really discovered an in between yet. First time you pinned my hands back pretty much while I got assaulted."

Kenny, who was bent over picking up his work apron from the bedroom floor is now standing upright, looking concerned and not finding it funny anymore. He listens to Kyle carefully. 

"Second time, you pushed me down and I busted open the scar on my head on a rock. You kind of let me get assaulted at times-"

"Kyle." Ken cuts him off. 

Kyle stops scooping ice cream from the walls of the cardboard cylinder.

"Yeah?"

"..are you okay? I would never do that to you." The blonde says so seriously. He's starting to get scared, himself. "Are you saying-?" He clears his throat, trying to piece things together. "I would never sexually assault you. Do you feel that way?" 

"What?!" Kyle asks, confused as he put down his food. "What are you talking about?" 

"What are YOU talking about? You said you have sexual dreams and then I assault you-"

"Nononono!" Kyle says quickly as he rubs his forehead with his fingertips.. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm sexual with you but then you.. you don't. It just kind of.." he trails off. "You're not the one assaulting me. And it's not sexual assault. But basic kicking my ass. But you're not the one doing it." He says, suddenly wishing he wouldn't have started this conversation.

"Who's assaulting you?" Ken asks, not feeling any better. 

Kyle's chest tightens up. He's thinking about it. He's awake. Woke even. He looks to his left fist, the hand that went from busting a hole in a wall to holding a phone while he came. He remembers what he was trying to calm down about. He can't speak. He can't tell him. He suddenly hangs up and puts the phone down, staring at it. Again remains the question, what did he just do?

"Kyle? Kyle!" Kenny asks, looking at the phone once it beeps. He looks up from the blank screen and feels his stomach dropping, chest sinking in. He decides to collect his shit, quickly put on his special work shoes, and grab his apron, wallet, keys, phone, and cigarettes. After that he hurries from his room and outside into the pouring rain. 

Kyle sits at the kitchen table, staring at the phone for a solid two minutes. Nothing. He sighs in relief. He didn't want to be confronted with another phone call. He looks to his ice cream. He scoffs in annoyance as he's turned off by stress and shame. He grabs the container and goes to throw it out, having lost his appetite. However he takes one last glance at the remaining dairy treat and reconsiders. He decides to finish off the rest of it before tossing it into the garbage with disgust. He cleans his used spoon and dries it off with the brown hand towel. He places it in it's correct place in the silverware drawer and closes it. He turns around, grabs his phone off the table, and walks out of the kitchen and into the living room. He turns off the music that had still been playing without his notice. A knock comes at the door. He very hesitantly goes over and answers it. He cracks it open. 

"Yeah- uh!" He says, surprised when he gets pushed back by the door as Kenny makes himself right at fucking home, walking in like he owns the place.

"Why did you hang up?" He asks, scolding with concern on his face. 

"What?" Kyle asks, definitely understanding the question, just not ready for it.

"Why did you hang up on me?" Ken asks again with a different, yet just as stern, tone.

"Because I didn't want to answer your question." He answers, not sure what else to say.

Ken sighs, giving him a look of worry and compassion. He steps closer, taking Kyle into a wet embrace. The redhead gasps quietly, backing up a bit but not enough for Kenny to notice apparently because the blonde only holds him tighter. The water on his hoodie touches Kyle's exposed skin, making him give off a soft noise of distaste.

"I would never hurt you." Ken whispers against his friend's cheek. Kyle's brows cast down in a hurt and worried look.

"Don't say that." 

"Why?"

"Because you don't know what goes on." 

The atmosphere grows more tense. Ken backs up, noticing the door is still open by negligence. He closes it, blocking out the bleak rain and looks to the redhead, who refuses to look back at him. The blonde tries to hold him again, this time making Kyle really back up, right into and over the arm of the couch. He props himself up, remembering his dream of this exact situation. Kyle sprawled out on the couch, Ken over at his house before work. He quickly tries to put a stop to it. 

"You need to go." He says, getting to his feet. 

"Why? What is wrong?" Ken asks, looking so hurt that it shakes Kyle. "Did I do something to make you feel this way? I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to-" 

"Stop." Kyle says, putting his hands up a bit, shaking his head. He has the same sorrowful look on his face. "You didn't do anything. That's not what I meant. I'm not mad I'm just-" He can't find the words, especially looking in these diamond eyes. "It's Stan." He finally says. 

"What?" Ken asks, looking a tiny bit more pale, not noticeable, but the blonde can feel it in his flesh. 

"He's the one who assaults me. And it's not sexual. I'm close to you one second, then he's hurting me and you just kind of play along with it." 

The feeling of heartbreak returns in Kenny's heart. It felt the same as when Kyle asked about Stan in the park.

"Kyle." He shakes his head. 

"Stop saying my name." He warns. Everyone just says his name, and it's in that pitiful tone, with those instant soft eyes. Sorrowful looks and voices get under his skin. 

Ken keeps his eyes on the redhead and slowly steps closer. Kyle finally lets him get close, but part of him wants to only hold him at arms length. The blonde steadily wraps his arms around the other nineteen year old.

"I would never harm you, or let anyone else harm you." 

Eventually Kyle hugs him back and when he gives in, he hugs him as hard as he can.

Ken strokes his hair and pats his back, calming the redhead down and gives him the affection he truly craved. 

Soon, the embrace is broken when Ken pushes Kyle back to examine the scratches on his throat. He moves the long fluffy red hair from the guy's jawline and shoulders and sees it. His brows furrow as he quickly asks. 

"What is that?" 

Kyle looks clueless at first. Then his dumbfounded eyes grow wide in realization. The hickey. He backs up and covers his neck, just now noticing that he doesn't have his hat either for protection against judgement.

"What are you doing?" Kyle asks. 

"What are YOU doing?" Ken says with a surprised little smirk. "I didn't give you that." He says, pointing back to his own chest. 

"Give me what?" He asks, turning around and pushing his hair back over the spot, much more than necessary. 

"Dude." Ken grabs his shoulder and spins the guy back around. He moves the other's hand and hair away and marvels at it. "Who gave you that?" A big wide grin is spreading across his face. 

"You're not angry?" Kyle asks, assuming Ken would be upset that someone else pressed their lips to his skin. 

"No? Why would I be?" He strokes his thumb across it, making Kyle shiver and jerk his neck away from his touch. 

"Because I kissed someone else." He says quietly. That leaves Kenny confused. 

"You're not mine. You're your own person. You can kiss someone else, fuck someone else. You're not my property, dude." He goes right back to touching the mark, making it more difficult for Kyle to breathe.

"Can you not do that?"

"Why?" Ken asks with a smile.

"Because you're going to worsen my dreams." 

Ken stops, looking gutted. 

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking. ..Really, Kyle I would never hurt you." 

"I'm not talking about you hurting me." He says, getting ballsy. He feels a bit powerful when Ken looks lost. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You're not hurting me in the beginning of my dreams." He reminds him. It takes a second for Ken to register that Kyle meant he's worsening the sexual parts. With that being said, he purposely touches his neck softly again. Kyle laughs, backing up. 

"Asshole." Kyle taunts him, moving Ken's hand away from his neck. 

"I'm gonna need you to tell me about these dreams." He says with that intimidating holy grin on his lips. "But first, who gave you this?" He asks, brushing his thumb against the hickey again before Kyle can wrench back. 

"I'm not telling you either of those things." He says with a playful grin. 

"C'mon." Ken asks, getting closer. 

"No." Kyle says, matching his demeanor. 

"Then I can just give you a new one." He jokes, lunging closer to bite his neck, making Kyle laugh and turn away. Ken reaches out and pulls him in by his shirt. He smiles as he gets Kyle against his chest and laughing. He kisses his neck, making Kyle's giggles worsen. 

"What are you doinggg?" The redhead laughs, struggling for freedom but not actually, not even a little bit. 

"Marking youuu." Ken mimics as he chuckles against his cheek. He attempts to kiss his neck again while holding him tighter but Kyle moves, pushing his shoulder up in the way as he quickly pretends to go limp, just sliding to the floor and laying there like a spoiled child would when told to do a chore.

"You fucking brat." Ken remarks, just amazed by him. 

Kyle closes his eyes and turns his head away.

"I'm dead and therefore cannot feel your judgement. Only God's now." He says, playing this elaborate game. 

"God isn't real." Ken laughs, deciding to sit on his lap, but not just sit, downright plop all of his weight suddenly on his thighs. It makes Kyle grunt and spazz, followed by a smothered laugh. Ken grins. 

"Thought you were dead. Dead people can't laugh." Ken says.

"Thought God didn't exist. But there's an angel on my lap." Kyle replies. There's silence as Ken looks very delightfully surprised. Kyle opens one eye to check if he liked that joke or not. He begins biting his smile when he sees the blonde's facial expression.

"Fucking gay." Ken says a bit louder than needed, starting to scoff with happiness. Kyle just continues to play dead with both eyes closed again. 

Ken smiles to himself as he becomes endearing. He takes the redhead's face in his hands and kisses his cheek softly. He sits back up and the room grows silent. He's starting to feel so comfortable. So much that he does nothing. Ken simply admires this silly boy who's playing dead.

Thoughts begin to play through Kyle's head. Memories come through in intrusive waves. He remembers this feeling. The feeling of him on his back, with emotions too high. He slowly opens his eyes to see a different scene.

He was 17. It was April. He was laying on his back in the snow, having just made a snow angel for no particular reason. Kenny and Cartman were 20 feet away, smoking pot beside a tree. They were by Stark's Pond, just talking, hanging out. 

"Hey." A distinguishable voice called. The crunching of snow under thick winter shoes came closer. "What are you doing?" 

Kyle's emerald eyes lifted to meet the face of the one he revered. 

"Having a bad day." Kyle confessed. 

"Why?" Stan asked, reaching out to get the redhead's hand and pull him up. Kyle purposely kept his hand limp to slip from the other teen's grasp. He looked towards the forest. He had been feeling especially lonely for a few days. Something happened. It wasn't mentioned, but it hurt.

"Dude?" Stan asked, starting to grow a bit more concerned. Kyle could hear it in his voice. At this point the other two friends by the tree had noticed the peculiar display in the snow. The crunching noises came again. Soon all three were standing around the one limp boy. 

"What's wrong with the Jew?" Cartman asks, coughing a bit with his red eyes. 

While Kyle might have usually started speaking with a defensive tone, he instead stayed quiet. Stan only shrugged and exchanged puzzled looks with Kenny. 

"Dude." Stan reiterated as he reached out again, only for Kyle to get bellicose. He shoved his hand away that time, glaring. It left the older guy more baffled. "What?" 

Kyle's gem gaze bounced from the trees to the sky above them.

"C'mon, Jew, don't be a fucking brat." Cartman sneered, giving him a little kick to the hip, nothing harsh enough to hurt him. 

"Stop, Fatass." Ken scolded, moving his hand out to back Cartman up. A sudden sniffle gained all of their attention. Kyle's eyes were just as red as Eric's. Painful acidic tears were rolling down the sides of his skull, reaching to his temples. His poor cheeks burned in the cold. He began to stifle his own sobs, trying so hard to hold back the spiny emotions. The facial expressions of all the teens dropped into fretful looks. 

"Kyle?" Ken was the first to speak up after a long silence. 

Stan squatted down and took the tear stained cheek into his gloved hand. 

"What happened?"

Finally Kyle caved and reached in his coat pocket. The rustling of paper in his own hand made him sob once more. He took the folded up paper and pressed it to the older teen's chest. Stan, looking conflicted, took it and unfolded it. After a once over of looking into the other guys' eyes, he began to read it.

On the top of the page was a crest looking logo with red, white, and blue colors. Below that was "Penn Law, University of Pennsylvania Law School." 

"Penn? You applied to Penn?" Stan asked, not knowing that. He hadn't been around the guys much those last few months. He was busy with his own college applications. His eyes scanned the top of the page, past the bullshit, "First name Last name, thank you for applying-".

"We regret to inform you-." A deep sigh of disappointment came from his chest. "Oh, Kyle." He sounded so disheartening. Kenny gave the same empathic look to his struggling friend. 

"And?" Cartman asked, confused on why Stan stopped reading. 

"Dumbass!" Stan snapped, punching the big boy's thigh, making Eric exclaim and rub the spot. "Obviously he didn't get in." 

Kenny crouched down and kneeled in the snow, ruining the angelic outline. He reached out and wiped the tears from the teen's dispirited face. 

"Hey, it's okay. What about Minnesota or Vermont?" Ken asked in his sweet tender voice. Kyle just shook his head. However, he was surprised that Kenny even remembered the list of colleges that Kyle applied to.

"I didn't get in there either, but I really wanted to go to Penn." Kyle coughed, starting to cry a bit harder as he stared up at the grey sky.

"You applied to Yale and Columbia too, though, right?" Ken asked, clinging to a shred of hope that he got into at least those schools. Kyle shook his head. 

"I haven't heard back yet, but there's no fucking way I'm getting into Yale, I don't even know why I applied, it was more of joke with my dad." He sniffled. 

"Don't worry. You'll get in." Ken promised, wiping the tears away again. 

"Yeah, dude. They're stupid as shit if they don't. And these guys don't matter." Stan said, deciding to keep the paper for himself, shoving it in his own brown coat pocket. He didn't want Kyle reading it over again. 

"You'll be okay, Jew. Get up." Cartman spoke, pulling him up from the snow. He didn't really know how to comfort anyone. Especially Kyle. The redhead sniffled one last time before finally letting his friends help him up out of the snow.

The front door opens and Kyle sits up quickly, pushing Kenny off his lap. He feels so embarrassed when Ike walks in. 

"Fuck rain." Ike murmured to himself as his back is turned to the guys in the floor. He reaches up, pulling out the pink barrette from his hair and turns around. He pauses, looking at Ken and his brother. "Woah." He wipes the makeup from his face, smearing it a bit. "Do you guys not like beds or something?" 

"What? No! We're not doing anything." Kyle says, standing up along with the quiet guy beside him. 

"Ah. Right." Ike nods. "Still a virgin." He taunts as he begins to walk up the stairs. 

"Oh, go fuck yourself." Kyle spits, annoyed at his brother's attitude. 

"Mhm." Is the fourteen year old's only response before disappearing. 

There's a bit of silence as Kyle rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. He returns his gaze to Ken's only to see confusion once more. 

"Virgin?" 

Kyle groans a bit in annoyance. He is starting to grow hungry all over again. He ignores the question as he begins looking for food. 

"Are you a -?" Ken asks, starting to grin. "You're not a virgin." He shakes his head, growing curious. "There's no way." 

"Yeah there is." Kyle answers, opening the cabinets and looking again. Finally something grabs his attention and he grabs it right back. He opens a box of flavored crackers and begins eating them one at a time. He looks the box over, checking the ingredients. When did they get Parmesan Garlic Triscuits?

"What? You're nineteen, how are you still a virgin?" Ken scoffs, starting to pick at him. Kyle, with eyes still on the box, replies. 

"Do you magically lose your virginity when you turn seventeen?" 

"Try three." Ike says as he walks in, still in his fabulous outfit, just without shoes. He walks to the rag drawer, grabs a hand towel and starts drying his wet hair. 

"That was quick." Kyle says, surprised on how fast he moved. "And that didn't count." He randomly puts a cracker up to his brother's mouth. "Rape doesn't count." Ike moves back a bit to see what's been placed in front of his face then gladly takes it. Thunder strikes, shaking the walls again. The lights flicker but remain on, catching everyone's attention for a split second. Ike, watching the light for a minute in the long silence, forgets it with an 

"Alrighty then." 

"Back to the conversation-" Ken says, looking at the redhead. "Have you really never done anything?" 

"I'm pretty certain that's what the word virgin means." Kyle says in a tone that is a bit sarcastic before placing another cracker in his mouth. 

"Not everyone's a slut like you, McCormick." Ike blurts, grinning at the blonde. He wets the cloth in his hand and begins getting the makeup off his face.

"I'm not a slut." Ken says, surprised by his rudeness. 

"You sure about that?" Ike asks. 

"You've been pretty sleazy since we were eight." Kyle comments. 

"You're both bitches, okay?" Kenny insults, looking affronted. 

"Probably." Ike agrees, taking a fistful of crackers from the box after stuffing his hand in. He promptly leaves to the couch to watch some TV and get the rest of the glitter off his cheeks.

Kyle looks at the clock on the stove, not noticing Kenny stepping closer. The blonde puts his hand on top of the box and pushes it lower to give more available space between themselves. 

"You're really a virgin?" He asks softly as he hears the tv turn on. Thankfully the noise would mask his next remark. He didn't want Ike hearing what he's about to say.

"Mhm." Kyle hums, popping the Triscuit that's resting in his hand into his mouth. Ken nods just a bit, showing he's listening.

"Maybe we should change that." The blonde implies. Thunder strikes again, the wind is really howling now outside. They can hear it through the walls and windows of the house. Kyle's face is so surprised and burning, he's frozen just a bit. He wasn't expecting that. He gulps down the carbohydrate in his mouth and looks at the clock again. 

"It's time for you to go." Kyle informs. 

"What?" The satisfied flirty look vanishes from Kenny's face. "I was just joking, I didn't mean-" he says fast while shaking his head. 

"First of all,-" Kyle interrupts him. "That's not what I meant." He points to the clock. "It's two o'clock. Better get walking." 

Blue eyes follow the pointed hand, seeing the digital clock change to 2:01. 

"Oh." He says softly and looks back to him. "And second of all?" He asks, wanting to hear the rest of what was obviously there. 

"Second of all," Kyle starts, giving a daring smile. "You weren't joking. I know when you're joking." He reaches up and pats his shoulder. "You're gonna be late." He walks away, leading the blonde to the front door. Ken takes a deep breath and follows behind. He waves slightly at Ike when he passes by the younger teen on the couch.

"Later, Ike."

"Goodbye." Ike says, eyes glued to the television. Kenny gives a disturbed and baffled look. 

"Why does he say it that way?" He whispers to Kyle. 

"He's formal." Kyle informs with a smile. He opens the door to reveal chaotic rain outside. "Ready?" He asks with a kidding tone. 

"No." Ken replies, not wanting to ever leave with the weather like this, especially just to go to work.

"Aw." The redhead says, giving him a little push out of the house. "Have fun, be safe." He says before closing the door and chuckling. 

"So." Ike begins. "What did y'all do?" 

"Talked." 

"Ya sure?" 

"Pretty certain, yeah." 

Kyle comes over and takes a seat beside his brother. 

"How was your social experiment?" Kyle asks. 

"I have $74 in my shorts and got a ride home from Randy Marsh, so … pretty successful." He says, not looking at him. 

"Oh…" Kyle almost whispers, feeling on edge about that name. That person. He starts to rub his head, thinking a bit. 

"He's still incredibly nïave and easy to manipulate." Ike responds. 

"Yeah." Kyle says. He doesn't want to think anymore. He looks up at the TV. He should get out of here. He looks to his brother. "Want to go see a movie instead?" 

Ike scoffs. He knows his brother too well, or so he believes. 

"You don't go out in public places."

"Yeah but, it's raining and gloomy, not a lot of people should be at the theatre." 

Ike finally looks away from the screen, giving an astonished look. 

"You're serious?" 

"Yeah. Let's go." Kyle suggests with a hopeful smile. 

"Yeah?.. yeah!" Ike stands up and turns the tv back off. 

"Okay, but you're paying with that money you scammed." Kyle says with an endearing smile. He follows Ike upstairs to change with him into better street clothes, ones fit for rainy days. 

When Ike walks into his own bedroom, he closes his door and leans back against it. He quietly laughs, his eyes turning watery. He blinks as he laughs again, tears shedding now. He's realizing his big brother just spoke to him. They had playful banter. They actually talked and now they're going to do something together. It wasn't much, but this is the closest he's felt to his brother in a solid year. He reaches up and wipes away the tears, smiling so wide. It wouldn't matter what they watched at the movies, he just wanted to watch his brother smile and sit in public.


	7. Our Friendship Has Ended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle goes to the movies with Ike, but ends up with a medical emergency which lands them at the hospital with Cartman. Ike and Eric bond a little while shedding some light on Kyle's past and mental health. Kyle helps himself to start the healing process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEADS UP: I created this story for a boyfriend because he loved this fandom, however we did break up right after chapter six. The story itself has actually been corresponding with mine and his relationship which could be why some things are a little strangely specific. However, I decided that I really love this story and I want to continue it despite the ended relationship. I hope you all are enjoying it too and if you are PLEASE let me know because I really need the support to know if you want more. Since we have broken up, chapter seven will be the last chapter that holds strangely specific information and descriptions. I will keep the characters how they are, the storyline is the same, and I am continuing this story until it is finished. Your comments absolutely do make me work faster and better. I honestly would have thrown this story away if it wasn't for two specific people who commented on my work. So, if you like it, please do say so. If I am slow at updating chapters, it is because I am a college student and I want to die. Please be patient, I promise I am trying, I love you all.

The walk to the movies is sluggish. It takes twice as long for the two brothers to reach the theatre due to the wind and rain. When they finally do arrive at their destination they are soaking wet and freezing. Their clothes cling to them tenaciously, weighing them down. The second they get inside the building, Ike begins to complain even louder than he did on the way there. Maybe he just couldn't have kept his big mouth open when rain was shooting in his face.

"It's too cold for summer." He gripes, pushing his dripping black hair back, cascading around his face. Kyle has to admit that despite his brother being an absolute hot-headed, bitter, terrifyingly intelligent sociopath, he is starting to grow into himself. His voice has dropped quite a bit over the past three years and his face is starting to become less chubby and babyish. He isn’t ugly at all, sure he’ll look amazing when he’s nearing 20, but he’s looking pretty great now too. His eyes are big and lustrous black, his skin is paper pale, lips are champagne pink. He's still cute with his lack of a growth spurt, at only 5'7. He’s attractive for his age even if Kyle refuses to ever say that out loud. He and his brother have an unspoken agreement to never compliment each other. Ike walks across the dark carpeted floor, starting to unbutton his coat. "What do you want to watch?"

Kyle watches his brother's annoyed attitude fester as it usually does. He has always been like that. He gets so irked and rigid. He's more of a hothead than Cartman, yet more intellectually mean, which is such a dangerous way to live. Ike truly is a fascinating kid. It seems Kyle forgot all of this about his little brother. They haven't spoken to one another in a year pretty much, never like today.

"Anything you want is fine with me." He shrugs, not minding whatever movie his brother favored. Ike sighs and looks around at the movie posters and times. It's another ten minutes until the new Dwayne Johnson movie comes on. He likes the Rock. The Rock is so smiley and kind while maintaining a brutish, masculine, God-like body. Ike goes to the movie ticket area and pays for their two tickets with his manipulative money.

Kyle takes his time to look around the building, remembering all the designs on the walls and floor. There's no one around him, the place is barren, but he's suddenly hearing voices and footsteps. He smells the popcorn and hears the little whirrs of arcade games by the front entrance, to the left of him. His milieu transitions to another place or time that's locked tight in nostalgia.

"Careful.. careful careful careful!" A demanding, frustrated tone ululated.

"Yelling be careful doesn't make me careful, Fatass!" Kyle snapped back, his eyes on the widescreen in front of himself. He hadn't planned to become so invested in this Space Invader arcade game. Neither did Cartman but now they were both watching and focused, so attentive of the moving pixels. Kyle almost had it, one life left and one last Invader. He hit the button over and over to fire, but he missed as it moved. The missile that the Invader dropped was too close for him to yank the joystick in time, suddenly offing him. Both preteens yelled in aggravation as they gave up and the screen read "GAME OVER."

"Son of a bitch," Kyle mumbled, walking away from it.

"C'mon man, you almost had it!" Cartman complained, in major disbelief and disappointment.

"Yeah, well," Kyle's eyes raised to see his other friends as he slid his hands in his pants pockets. "I could have a lot of things, I guess."

He paced over to the claw machine that Stan and Kenny were stationed at, looking just as tense as Cartman and Kyle were on the other game. Somehow Stan managed to win a small little stuffed animal in the shape of a turkey.

Stan cheerfully picked it out of the machine and smiled wide.

"Ah, that's so cool." His ocean eyes raised to Kyle's as he showed off his new little buddy. 

"Happy Thanksgiving, dude." He laughed. Kyle gave a little chuckle back, feeling a bit of sadness in this. He was thirteen and it was less than a week before Thanksgiving. That meant that all of his friends would be away, he included, and it would be that way for the next month or so.

"Kind of weird they managed to get holiday-themed beanie babies in there," Ken commented, staring in the tricky toy container.

"Yeah, but they get whatever they can. Look, you can see Easter Bunnies in there. A little Fourth of July bear." Stan smiled, humoring himself as he noticed these untimely themed dolls. 

"Probably got them from the thrift store or some sold off storage unit." He jokes with the blonde.

"Can I see it?" Ken asked, wishing to hold it. Stan snickered and handed it over.

"Yeah. You like turkeys?"

"Not really. Oh, it's so soft." Ken responded with a delightful tone as he touched the fabric of the toy.

"What's so special about a turkey? Wanna see how far I can throw it?" Cartman asked, trying to gain attention as he snatched the doll from Kenny's opened hand.

"No!" Kenny snapped, prying it from his wrathful grip. "Asshole." He commented before handing it back to Stan. Ken had been pretty sweet lately, mostly because he had been babysitting his sister more and had to give a fuck. Sometimes he didn't know how to turn off the baby monitor in his head and would treat things more gently when he would normally be rough.

"Pfft, whatever," Cartman said, rolling his eyes while walking away. "It's time for the movie to start anyways." Ken followed behind, mimicking Eric's facial expressions and mouthing his words more exaggeratedly. Stan stepped to leave the arcade section but Kyle's hand reached out and took his. Their skin touched a little longer than needed, squeezed their hands together a little tighter than necessary. Stan looked back at him.

"What?" He asked. Kyle soon let his hand go, knowing he was getting a bit too eager.

"I uh, I just wanted to tell you.." His green eyes got lost in Stan's finely detailed jaw structure.   
Stan had started to become more defined and it was so unusual. It left an aching hold of intimidation in Kyle's sternum. "I'm gonna miss you."

A smile spread across Stan's face.

"You what?" He moved his body to face Kyle exactly. "Why are you saying that?"

"Because you're leaving and I'm leaving and it'll be that way again in December. I won't see your Christmas and you won't see my Hanukkah."

A little twinkle sparked in Stan's eyes.

"I'm gonna miss you, too, dude. How about this," He reached out and placed the little turkey in Kyle's palm. "You can have this, for now, to remember me on Thanksgiving and next year I'll come to see your Hanukkah?"

The look in Stan's eyes was so comforting back then. Kyle's fingers curled by command, accepting the offer.

"Okay." He agreed, forcing it out with a pathetic little nervous laugh.

"C'mon." Stan coaxed, taking the new turkey owner by his shoulder. "Let's go see this movie and bet how many boxes of Rasinets Cartman can eat."

"It's four," Kyle answered, already knowing that as he walked away from the games and towards the screening rooms.

"C'mon Jew!" He heard Cartman yell, getting sick of the two boys stalling around. However, he hears it again.

"Jew!"

Kyle tears his eyes away from the games that he's been subconsciously looking at for a while. However, he glances back at them for just a second to ensure that they are in fact older looking, run-down, discarded. He faces the person calling him. It's Cartman in his work outfit and Kyle can't help but cover his mouth to hide a very judgemental smile.

"Oh, my God," Kyle whispers into his palm, starting to crack up as he sees him in black pants, special black shoes, and his blank dark blue shirt with his name pinned on it. It's like seeing him naked, only this is probably worse. This is just humiliating. He can't decide if he automatically regrets coming here or is so happy about it. He can't take him seriously in a movie theatre worker's outfit.

"You're outside," Cartman says, sounding astonished. Kyle realizes what he's confused about. The redhead hadn't been spotted in captivity in months. This must be like seeing Bigfoot in the wilderness.

"Oh. Yeah. I'm here with-" Kyle turns and sees Ike walking over with four boxes of candy, which consisted of Reece's Pieces, Good and Plenty, Rasinets, and Junior Mints, plus a popcorn bag and large slushy.

"I got you nothing," Ike informs as he sips his slushy.

"Oh," Kyle answers, blinking a bit at the display in front of him. This thin teen has his arms filled, almost wobbling in his big rainy day coat.

"Do you want some help?" Kyle asks, reaching out for some stuff to carry.

"No!" Ike says, jerking his arms filled with goodies away from his brother.

"Oh," Kyle repeats, watching his brother now pitter-patter across the floor to the screening rooms. "I better go help him." He says, excusing himself from Cartman, who is still astounded by seeing the redhead in public.

"You're such a twerp." Kyle mocks, hurrying way ahead to open doors for him. "And we still have a few minutes before the show starts. You know it never plays on time."

"I like the previews," Ike tells him. He turns and then weaves through a bunch of seats, having to find the perfect row and column for his seat. He decides on one almost right in the middle of the room. Kyle sighs and prays that no one else is coming today. But he's wrong. People come in more and more, from ten to twenty to thirty. Maybe they picked the wrong movie.

Kyle takes deep breaths, realizing how stressful this is becoming. People are watching him. They're coming in, filling the room, glancing at him. They can see his scratched throat. They can see the hickey. They can see his scar. They're taking up the isles, blocking him in. He'll have to move past them to get out. They'll see who he is, they'll see it's him. He's the guy whose friendship cost Stan Marsh his happiness. He's the guy that's already moved on and kissing his friends. He's the asshole with no sense of shame. The shackles of guilt begin weighing and pulling down on his wrists and ankles. He can feel dread wrapping it's spiny fingers around his frail rib cage, giving little squeezes over and over to the beat of his bleeding heart. His senses are heightened, every noise is putting him on edge. A cough is a signal to a friend to look over at this red-headed piece of shit. Every giggle from a female is directed at his scars. Every wandering eye is sneaking peeks of the town's most hated guy. He rubs his head, feeling shaky. He has to stop, no one can see him, he's safe. He's in the dark and no one knows him. He takes a deep breath and lowers his hands. He's refusing to flake on his little brother. This is too big of a moment.

He peers to his brother, who looks genuinely better than before.

Ike hands Kyle some Reece's Pieces and the slushy.

"Here." He speaks a hushed voice as he watches the previews.

"Thought it was all for you," Kyle says, taking them.

"Of course not. I simply enjoy possessing power over something. Or someone." He says, sending a look to Kyle, who in turn pours some of the peanut butter candies in his mouth.

"Have you considered politics?" Kyle asks, muffled through a mouthful of sweetness. He stares at the screen while he speaks, just as his brother does, calming down now that he has something to focus on. The food in his mouth, this small conversation, and the screen ground him.

"Highly," Ike answers, watching his redheaded brother take a sip of cherry slushy.

"What side would you be on?"

"I'd like to be independent but it gets overlooked. I would go nowhere with it."

"Oh. Yeah."

Ike glances at Kyle, questioning if he's happy. He would never ask, though. He decides to just keep watching. This is all he ever wanted to do, watch something other than his brother’s mind and sense of security deteriorate. He finally feels like life is good again.

Thirty minutes into the movie things are heating up. The Rock is showing off his bod in muscle shirts and fighting evil men and riding in fast cars. There are fire and explosions and the cameras keep cutting in between different frames and strangely the lighting is changing too quickly. It’s brighter and brighter with the sunlight and added features and the moving is happening too fast. Suddenly Kyle isn’t feeling well. He stands up and walks in front of Ike, whispering that he’s going to the bathroom. He walks down the aisle, which is fucking him up. Every time he has to move past someone he wants to end his life. He hears some words, whispers, cleared throat, sighs and he knows it's about him. He's an annoyance, a nuisance, a waste of space. He's a mistake. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down and turns the corner to the exit. The moment he gets out of the screening room it hits him. His skin pricks up, insides are quaking and the lights are too bright. It’s quick and effortless. He looks down the hallway to the right of himself and sees Cartman by the bathrooms, messing with the trash cans. He’s so close but too far away. Kyle takes a step, his right arm beginning to feel wrong. He wouldn't say it, but this is why he came to the movies. He thought it would be safe, he thought if he were around a friend then it would be safe to run to them. He could lie and not tell his brother that he wasn't dandy if he became too stressed out. He just didn't want to have to run and lie, not again and not anymore.

“Cartman?!” Kyle calls, walking closer with his eyes locked on the other man. He needs him to see him, he needs something right now.

Cartman looks up, scoffing from 20 feet away.

“Jew, you can’t just talk to me when I’m at work, I’m glad you’re out of the house too but I'm on the job.”

Kyle looks down to his arm, raising it up to see clearer. His muscles are twitching and pain is shooting up his body. His eyes cross Cartman’s once more. Those blue and brown eyes are the last thing he can attach himself to. He takes one final step and his legs give way under his weight, no longer able to carry himself. He collapses and hits the carpet, losing consciousness instantly.

Here he is, in this void, but it's not exact. He feels different this time. He’s not exactly dreaming. He sees the familiar mix of ground and sky, feels the usual coldness of existential crisis crossing his wavelength, yet he’s hearing different things.

"He's alive!" Resonates back and forth in this open, shadowed space. A gentle whirring is in the distance, far away from here, beyond the grand evergreens. He looks up at this black sky while his skin is burning from the cold. Hypothermia is setting in and eating him away. The sound of breaking glass accompanies these voices as the whirring grows closer. Loud buzzing covers up the screaming and he can't place it. Whose voice is it? It's shrill and scared. He steps closer, rubbing his sores covered arms. Ruby locks are gently brushed by the wind’s thin fingers; they call him in with a clenched fist and a promised kiss. His green eyes, while as precious as gems, cannot pierce and see past the ebony envelope. His breathing is slowing down and it is alarming but he cannot think to worry or ask why. He’s too focused on the sounds beyond his mind. The whirring is right above him. He finds it, the voice; It's Wendy.

Cartman drops his grip from the trash can's plastic lid and hurries to the redhead's side, with a string of curse words spewing from his lips instantaneously. He stands over this poor young man, searching for something. He has no clue what to do, so, while full of guilt, he hurries to the screening room Kyle just came out of.

There's quite an audience and it makes Cartman feel all the more out of control with the situation. He darts around, trying to see in the dark, finally deciding to say fuck it and call out for him.

“Ike Broflovski?!” He cries, his adrenaline raising in his veins.

“Shhhhh!” An older woman who is seated right beside of Cartman hisses at him.

“Fuck you, lady, I work here!” Eric snaps in her face.

“Fatass?” Ike mumbles, getting up from his seat.

The screen lights up for a second due to a brighter scene. At that moment, their gaze lands on each other. The newly established secure feeling that the fourteen-year-old held is now washed away with fear and disappointment. He so badly wanted life to be wonderful again, but life isn’t a movie, and his brother isn’t healed.

They both hurry out of the room and into the hallway. Ike freezes, staring at his brother in horror.

Kyle’s limbs are drawn in towards himself, twisted and moving erratically. His eyes are rolling upwards while his jaw is locked shut. His entire body is convulsing, muscles spazzing randomly and all over.

“Oh, my God!” Ike cries, hurrying over to his big brother’s aid once more. He tears off his own jacket and places it under his head to stop it from banging against the floor anymore.

“Aren’t we supposed to lay him on his side? Put something in his mouth? Ya know, so he doesn’t swallow his tongue?” Cartman asks, voice full of panic.

“What is wrong with you?!” Ike yells. “It is impossible to swallow your tongue, you dumb fuck! Don’t you dare try to force anything in his mouth, you’ll get your fingers bitten off!” He scolds and positions his brother on his side. For a moment, he just stares at him. He feels so angry, so emotionally distraught that suddenly he’s starting to lose every sense of empathy. He’s so stressed that he’s calm. He’s losing all control, he has no power in this. He can’t grab his brother by the shoulders and tell him no anymore. He’s stuck sinking into the carpeted floor of a movie theatre hallway.

“Call 911,” Ike instructs, feeling more hopeless than ever.

Eric takes his phone out and does so, stammering through half of it. After a minute or two, he hangs up with the assurance that an ambulance is on the way. He looks over at Ike, who is stroking Kyle’s hair and patiently waiting.

“What are you doing?” The brunette almost whispers.

“Nothing. What can I do?” Ike responds, cracking a melancholy smile. He’s lost, unable to achieve any type of safety. He can take no precaution here. He’s accepting that.

As time goes on, roughly seven minutes, Ike’s hands grow shakier, starting to tremble from fear and excitement. He randomly reaches out, grasping his brother’s wrist.

“Hey, don’t touch him-”

“Look.” Ike shows him Kyle’s pulsing hand. “They’re blue.” He says calmly. Kyle’s hand, especially his fingernails, are looking bluish compared to Ike’s. Eric can hardly breathe, feeling more shaken.

“What does that mean?”

“He’s not getting enough oxygen,” Ike explains, sitting up, then jerking back as the seizure stops. Sudden loud breathing comes from Kyle through his clenched teeth.

In the void, Kyle steps closer to the trees. He tries to see what is out there in the dark. He stops hearing the screams, the whirring, the buzzing. The cacophony has ceased and the only thing left is sirens. The sores on his arms are swelling up and spreading from the frostbite. He doesn’t acknowledge them. He just keeps stepping, walking to the edge. Yet, this place, it’s turning with him, moving as he does so that the treeline never gets any closer. He would make a run for it, but he can barely move now. The sirens are growing louder and louder until he can’t take it anymore.

Kyle sits up, looking terrified and wide-eyed in the back of the ambulance. He’s pushed back on the stretcher, repeatedly told that he’s okay but he is still panicking. He lays back, confused and startled. He looks around the emergency vehicle, feeling like he could be dying. He rubs his arms, seeing that nothing is there. He isn’t freezing to death. Why would he be? He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember a thing. He spends the rest of the ride looking around the room, speechless and barely aware of the world around him.

Forty-five minutes pass and Kyle is finally in a hospital room, being given an entire questionnaire on his life.

“Do you know what day it is?” His new doctor, Dr. Schrader, asks as his little nurse apprentice jots down the answers given. The nurse is young, Latin, beautiful, so culturally ambiguous. She’s such a sweet contrast compared to this white, dickish, snooze of a man, that is Dr. Schrader.

“..I don’t know,” Kyle says, rubbing his head with a sigh.

“Do you know what you were doing before the seizure?”

“No,” Kyle says after some serious thinking.

This goes on for a while. Eventually, Schrader calls for a CT scan. When he and his nurse leave, Kyle’s head rolls to Ike and Eric who are seated a couple of feet away from his bed. He looks back down and studies his own hands before laying his head back and closing his eyes.

“Should we tell him?” Cartman asks Ike in a gentle tone.

Ike sits quietly for a moment, considering it.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go do it.” He says, getting up. He leaves the room, going after the doctor.

Cartman stands after Ike leaves and goes to Kyle’s side.

“Kyle?”

“Hmm?” The redhead hums.

Cartman doesn’t say anything, he simply reaches out and touches his hair, just like his brother had done an hour ago.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles eventually.

“For what?” The redhead asks. His eyes open when he hears Eric give a little sniffle. “Woah, are you crying?” Kyle asks, reaching up to touch the softer, wider hand that is currently petting his ruby locks.

“No,” Eric answers, wiping away the tear that was certainly striding down his cheek with confidence. He’s being eaten up by self-condemnation for just leaving him there, seizing uncontrollably. He should have done something, anything at all.

“Are you okay?” The bigger teen asks, stupidly.

“I guess.” Kyle shrugs. He looks around the room, this all felt like deja vu. These walls, these sounds, these smells, it was all too familiar.

Cartman continues to pet Kyle’s fluffy hair until he sees it, the hickey.

“Oh no.” He mumbles involuntarily. He pulls his hand away, a sudden smirk forming on his lips.

“What?” Kyle asks, afraid it is more bad news that his friend spots.

“Nothing. Just..” He snickers. “The mark.”

“The mark?” Kyle asks, still perplexed. It hits him and he cracks a smile, pushing his shaggy curls back in the way to cover them.

“Have you have a hard time trying to hide it?”

“No, not really,” Kyle answers, finding it strange how he remembered that. He thinks harder, trying to remember the day, what all happened. Why was he here again? A question suddenly slips out of his mouth.

“How far were you going to go last night?” Kyle asks, referring to the hand that was pushed into his pants.

“What?” Cartman asks, blushing. He wasn’t expecting that question and he grows more flustered when Ike returns to the room.

“I told him. He still wants to run a scan. We’ll probably leave after that though, it’s not like they can fix anything.” The fourteen-year-old says as he takes a seat in one of the not-so-comfortable chairs in the corner of the hospital room.

“Okay,” Cartman responds as he walks back to sit in the chair beside of Ike, praying that Kyle doesn’t open his mouth around his brother. “Are you going to call your parents?”

“Nah, I don’t want to cause them any more distress. I’ll apologize for not telling them later.”

It takes quite a while for Dr. Schrader to return with his nurse. They get Kyle up and into a wheelchair and roll him to a special room with a big, strange-looking machine. They explain to Kyle that he is going to lay back and the machine will move around him. He is instructed to lay perfectly still. He is helped into it and does as told. He decides to close his eyes and just relax as best as he can.

“How did you know what to do?” Cartman asks as he and Ike walk to the elevator.

The two teens decided to go for a little walk to the vending machines that they saw on the first floor when they arrived. They did not want to have to stay put in that little space in the hospital room, trying to make foolish small talk while waiting for Kyle to come back. It was too depressing. So now they’re walking mindlessly down the hallways.

The floor is white and tiled. The walls are painted a matching creme white and the windows are huge, stretching from the floor to the ceiling and probably six feet wide. Behind the windows are little gardens with wire sculptures decorating them. There are brown little signs around the hallways with arrows navigating them.

“What are you talking about?” The younger teen asks back.

“During the seizure, you knew what to do. You knew to put the coat behind his head, that swallowing your tongue was a myth, and that his hands were turning blue.”

They reach the silver elevator doors that are at the end of the hall and to the left of them.

“Oh… well.” Ike reaches out and presses the button, watching it light up a bright yellow. “I.. I looked it up.” He mutters.

“Looked it up?”

“Yeah. Google is free, ya know?” Ike tries to dodge the topic as he watches the screen above the elevator door form a red upwards arrow.

“C’mon, asshole.” Cartman spits, bumping him with his shoulder.

“Fine.” The younger one sighs as he steps into the elevator when the door dings and opens up. He strides a bit to the left as Cartman enters behind him and hits the Level One button.

Kyle opens his eyes while in the machine and feels a bit of anxiety rush through his body. The walls are so tight and moving around him. He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes again. He tries to think about something else, anything else. As he continues to breathe deep, his surroundings alter into something much more nostalgic.

His back is pressed against a tree, the air is warm and the sky is heavenly. White wispy clouds form in ribbons across the endless blue horizon. The sun never shined so brightly next to the distant crescent moon. Flowers danced gently to the blowing of the summer breeze. Everything was so perfect then, on that sweet summer break in third grade.

“Don’t move.” A voice said as a random amount of foreign pressure settled against Kyle’s right temple. Kyle’s breath hitched, freezing.

“Lower your weapon.” The voice demanded.

“Okay. Okay.” Kyle said, lowering his fake gun to the ground.

“Now walk away.”

The redhead did so, walking away from the tree with his hands to the back of his skull. His sneakers buried into soft bladed grass with every step while the flock of starlings overhead soared across the indigo stratosphere.

“Turn around.”

He did, his eyes landing on a nine-year-old Stanley Marsh. Stan aimed and moved his ‘gun’ abruptly with a “bang!” Kyle collapsed to the ground after grabbing at his chest, playing dead. 

He fell into the grass, getting a better look at the birds in the clouds from down there.

Stan hurried over checking Kyle’s pockets.

“What are you doing?” Kyle asked, watching his friend try to pickpocket him.

“I’m stealing your supplies.”

“That’s kind of a dick move.”

“You’re not going to be needing it.”

“You’re literally robbing the dead.”

“Shut up.” Both boys laughed. Everything was so nice then. Kyle can remember when Stan was actually looking into enlisting in the National Guard. Suddenly the scenery changes again. Kyle was laid back on the single bed mattress that Stan owned with his eyes glued to the walls as he scanned them over and over. It was junior year in the middle of autumn. The army recruiters came and talked to the high school students during class changes, and Stan stopped by them. After whatever conversation they had, Stan went home and did his homework on them.

“I can go to college and they’ll pay off all of my debt after a couple of years,” Stan said while stationed at his desk.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Kyle asked, eyes moving to the handsome seventeen-year-old who was on the computer.

“Yeah, dude. I could get a football scholarship, go to school for liberal arts or engineering, get into National Guard afterward, and could be debt-free in about six years. Then I can go into the Peace Corps.”

“Peace Corps?” Kyle asked, puzzled. “You don’t want to do pro football?” Stan just laughed.

“I mean, I think I wanted to when I was younger. But I just want to help others now. Ya know? There are so many places that need our help. I could travel, see everything, go anywhere, help families and kids, animals, do whatever I needed to in order to make a change.”

Stan spun around, looking Kyle in the eye, with those tempting seaward eyes. He was so perfect.

Kyle opens his eyes with tears streaming down his face, seeing only the inside of this machine.

“After the accident, I looked up everything. I did research, found out what could happen after this. Seizures were one of them. Knowing it could happen, I looked up what type of seizures are which and how to help. I know Kyle had a tonic-clonic seizure, aka grand mal.” Ike says as he steps out of the elevator with Cartman. “I know it lasted over five minutes which isn’t good. I know he’s lucky that he didn’t die on his back from saliva building up in his mouth, he’s lucky he didn’t piss himself in front of a bunch of people or bite a hole in his tongue or cheek. I know he’s not great.” He ushers Cartman down the corridor with him as they wander upon the drink machines. They each put in their money and press different buttons. Ike grabs his Mellow Yellow from the machine with a sigh.

“I hate that,” Ike mutters.

“Hate what?” Cartman asks as he retrieves his Diet Coke.

“How the machine drops the drink. It’s like ‘here, here’s your fucking drink, let me throw it on the ground for you, allow me to shake it up so it spews on you.’” Ike mocks while slowly trying to open his drink. Cartman tries to hold back his amusement. The kid was pretty funny when he wasn’t purposely attacking someone’s insecurities.

“So.. do you think he’ll be okay? I mean, I know ..he’s not okay, but-”

Ike laughs.

“He’s fine.”

That puts Cartman off a bit. It sounded really apathetic. Does Ike not care?

“What? Why did you say it like that?”

Ike looks to him after taking a sip.

“You don’t know do you?” He asks, then scoffs. “Of course, no one knows. Because none of you cared to be there for him.”

Cartman gave a look in return, here Ike went, attacking again.

“Why do you have to be like that?” Cartman asks. Ike only smiles.

The smile fades as Ike gives it some thought. He practically told his brother to kill himself last night. How could he do that? He tries to find it in himself to have a genuine justification and reason for doing something so awful, especially given what his brother had already went through. Ike was just so angry, pent up, tired. When his brother used it as a stupid statement, a hyperbole, perhaps a joke even, it pushed him a bit too hard and too far. He thinks it all over some more, philosophizing his own being lately. He’s been so exhausted and pushed back that he hasn’t acted like himself. He’s become quiet, bored, and neglected. He hasn’t looked at Kyle in awhile and yet he hasn’t thought of the past either. He doesn’t feel haunted, but perhaps so shaken that now he’s calm. Besides, Ike received trauma too. It created a painful place in his frontal lobe that will never leave. That could cause anyone to act out of the norm.

“He can never get any worse, Cartman.” He promises. “Ever. He’s already hit rock bottom.   
There is no way he could ever fall that hard again. He’s honestly done great progress recently.” He says with more thought. He has to give his brother some kind of credit. He has done well, he has finally left the house, been around friends, is actively talking, walking, smiling, and laughing.  
Ike begins the walk back to the room, explaining while doing so.

“Just because he had a seizure doesn’t mean that he’s doing worse. I’ve seen his worst and it’s something you really can’t unsee.”

“What are you talking about?” Cartman asks, opening his soda carefully.

“It happened in March.” Ike begins, mashing the button again for them to go back up.

Kyle’s heart rate fastens as he tries to hold it all together. He closes his eyes and feels the pain. He hears the whispers.

“You’ve already moved on.” Comes from his mind. The memories flood back too sudden and blurred. He remembers him and Stan going to City Wok and sitting there for two solid hours, just talking, getting to know each other all over again. He remembers going to Walmart with him and messing around, going back and forth between aisles, looking at everything they could and thinking about what kind of lives they would live if they had all of these materialistic objects. He remembers going swimming with him last August and spending an hour talking about different serial killers and their styles of killing. He remembers sitting on Stan’s couch while they watched Hulu, and just talked about their futures and goals. He remembers mundane moments of eating dinners and washing dishes with him. He remembers sleeping beside him and waking up just the same.

“I thought you loved him.” The voice whispers.

“Of course I did,” Kyle mumbles back, eyes moving back and forth.

“You damaged him. You hurt him. You ruined his life. He was so happy until you came along.”

“That’s not true.” He protests under his breath.

“You said you loved him, you kissed him, you confessed your love, then you hurt him? You took away all of his chances at happiness.”

“I did love him. I do love him.”

“But you kiss his friends? What kind of friend does that? What kind of a best friend says they love you then hurts you and makes out with your two other friends?”

“It’s not like that,” Kyle whispers, brows furrowing as his tears spill again.

“Then what is it like? You took everything from him, you took his future, career, his whole life away from him. He was going to make a difference. He was going to help people. It hasn’t even been a year yet and you’ve already moved on and are kissing guys. Those guys were his friends too. They’re your friends, are you going to hurt them also?”

“I never meant to hurt him. He never spoke back to me. I can scream into the abyss all I want but I cannot make silence speak back to me. He knows that I’m sorry. Our friendship has ended. It’s up to him to help himself. I want him to move on. I want him to forget about me and live better, live in a way that makes himself happy. I want him to find a new best friend to love. I know they’ll love him more than I did, treat him better than I could. And if I want the best for him and we were always on the same page, then he must want the best for me too.” Kyle says, voice cracking as his head begins to ache horribly. The machine goes back to its original position and the teen is finally released from its clutches.

Ike steps into the elevator with Cartman. No one is around so he speaks freely and quickly to avoid airing his family’s dirty laundry to a stranger on the next floor.  
“I was going over to a friend's house. My parents were both working late as usual. This was the first time since the accident that Kyle was alone in the house for most of the night. I had always been there, taking care of him. Mom and Dad were too busy with the court case so I was the one making him dinner and checking on him. With that in mind, I tried to talk to Kyle and he had no objections when I said I was leaving. So I left. I went to my friend’s house and we did all sorts of stuff, it was fun. Honestly, the best night I’ve had since last August. Then, I get a call in the middle of the night. My mom was crying and said ‘Ike, I have to come get you. Your brother tried to kill himself.’” Ike takes a sip of his drink and screws the cap back on, feeling the little jerk as the elevator stopped moving.

Blood drains from Eric’s face. His chest starts pounding harder. He’s overcome with sudden vertigo. He doesn’t speak up, he only lowers his gaze as the doors open.

They both step out of the elevator before Ike continues the story.

“I came home and I didn’t get to see Kyle for a week. They sent him to this nice mental hospital in Denver. When he came back, he was put in therapy and has been going ever since.”

“Wait- how did he..” Cartman objects, shaking his head a bit.

“He tried to overdose on the oxycontin that the doctor prescribed him after the accident. He was given a prescription of 3 pills a day for an entire month. He only took a week's dosage before he realized what kind of opportunity he had and started saving them every time he was given a pill. Mom would give him the pill and walk away, so he would just put it in his pocket, go upstairs and stuff it in a little plastic bag and hide it under his mattress. He went through so much unbearable pain and played pretend the entire time. Can you imagine your body being covered in bruises and broken in several places and still pushing through it silently? He did that.”

“Why did he wait until March if he had the pills since August?” Cartman asks, barely able to make a sentence.

“It was Kenny’s birthday. He remembered all the good memories and just snapped. At least, that’s what he told us when he got home. He apparently got wasted from our dad’s wine and took all the pills at once. Miraculously, he vomited and mom and dad were home soon after.”

“Stop,” Cartman puts his arm out, grasping the younger teen’s shoulder. “Why are you saying all of this like it’s nothing? You’re talking about your brother’s suicide and you’re not even flinching.”

Ike gives a slight look of confusion.

“How should I be saying it?”

“Like you care!”

“I do care. It’s just.. It’s over, Cartman. What the hell can I do about it now? I can’t change his mentality.”

“But you could be gentle about it, express something other than annoyance towards him.”

“What would you know about expressing anything other than annoyance?”

“I’m trying! Isn’t this what everyone agreed upon? We all unanimously decided to treat Kyle-”

“Like a basketcase?”

“No! Just- Like..” Cartman sighs. “I don’t know. Just-”

“Like a baby?” Ike taunts.

“No, like someone who tried to commit suicide, asshole.” Cartman snaps back.

Ike gives a sigh and thinks it over. 

“I don’t think he’ll like it, but I guess I could test my emotional abilities. However, I think it’s pretty stupid.”

“Just get moving.” Cartman shakes his head, his turn to usher Ike down the hall.

Both teens get back to the room right as Kyle does in his wheelchair. All of them look emotionally exhausted.

They gather in the room and wait another hour and a half for any kind of result. They’re delivered the facts that Ike already knew. This would most likely be long term and if they want more help, they should go see a specialist. At least that is the news that Kyle heard while dissociating as hard as ever. He stared at the heart monitor for an entire hour and barely acknowledged that Dr. Schrader had even returned. Kyle only snapped out of it when it was time to leave.

The ride home in Cartman’s car was silent. They were all too fatigued to speak any longer. Ike slumped down in the back seat, almost asleep throughout the entire ride home but would wake up to a sudden harsh bump in the road here and there. When entering the town again, Kyle caught a blur of something white and blue by the side of the road. He jerked awake a bit and looked over his left shoulder, unable to see it again. He looked back to the road, noticing that they weren’t coming from the way he usually does from therapy. He feels a little weird about it but doesn’t vocalize any type of opinion.

When the car pulls into the Broflovski’s driveway, Ike gets out immediately, announcing that he is going to bed. He walks up the front steps and vanishes into the house. He’s clearly tired due to his wobbly walking and heavy steps.

Kyle takes a deep breath, thinking the entire day over. It was so much information to take in. He feels so emotionally conflicted. He wasn’t very confused anymore, though. 

“I’m sorry about today.” Cartman mutters, the guilt flooding back to him. 

“I told you not to do that.” Kyle says in a stern voice. The brunette looks up confused and is met with a playful gaze. “You’re not supposed to treat me any type of tender way. Treat me how you normally would.”

Eric gives him a grin back, looking drained. Maybe Ike was right. Kyle doesn’t seem to want to be treated like a baby. But how do you treat someone who is mentally ill? He looks Kyle all over, starting to realize he could have lost Kyle twice this past year. No, probably three times counting today. Suddenly he’s choking up, he can barely breathe. He turns his head to look out the window and swallows it down. He tried not to think about it today, but he was so bothered, a little bit scared actually. It was terrifying to see Kyle in a hospital bed again, being probed while looking so ill. The mere image of Kyle gulping pills and wine makes him want to run away from this place, this quiet little mountain towns that’s deafening with its secrets

“Hey.” Kyle smiles weakly. “You never answered me.”

“Answered you?” Cartman asks confused.

“How far were you going to go last night?” Kyle asks with a silly smile. Red fills the brunette’s pale cheeks as he gives a nervous laugh.

“Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude. But I am tired and I’m sure you are too.” He insists, way too embarrassed to be serious about a topic like that.

“I haven’t become a bother have I?” Kyle asks, his low self esteem needing a vibe check.

“What? No. What happened to us not talking like that with each other?” Eric smiles. “Get out of my car, Jew.” 

Kyle smiles back, taking this moment in. He moves his hand to the door and moves to get out, but stops. He leans back over, putting his mouth to the other teen’s neck. Cartman breaths in deep and holds it, very surprised. He lets it all out when teeth sink into his skin. Kyle goes hard, biting down and sucking in this special place on his neck for a solid painful minute before letting go. 

“I’ve been embarrassed all day, so there, paybac-” Kyle looks down at the end of his sentence, seeing the darkest burgundy colored hickie. He covers his mouth with a gasp and hurries out of the car. “Okay, later!” He yells, rushing back inside.

“What?” Cartman exclaims back in confusion. He smacks down the sun visor and looks at his throat. 

Kyle can hear him yelling antisemetic slurs even after the door is shut. He laughs for a while before locking the door and walking upstairs. He sheds his clothes and takes his phone from his pants pocket. He lays down on his bed, looking over at the hole in the wall. He sighs and checks his phone. 

There are a few messages but he only goes to a specific person’s contact. He looks at the one sided conversation that he’s been having for a year with his ex best friend. He gets a rush of anxiety as he presses a few buttons. He stops himself, his thumb hovering over “Delete 1 conversation?” His eyes dart a bit back and forth before hitting it and watching the conversation disappearing. He closes his eyes and drops his head back. He lowers his phone and relaxes. He drifts off to sleep easy tonight.


	8. You're A Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle, Ike, Wendy, Kenny, and Cartman go to the Denver Zoo.  
> On the way there, they bond over old iconic music, learn of Kyle's multiple love interests, and establishes some ground of respect for Ike. Wendy and Ike finally get some recognition from Kyle.  
> Kyle faces his dreams again and they're more wicked than before.

It’s been 11 months and 2 weeks since the accident.

After Kyle had his seizure, he was forced to tell his parents what happened. His mother didn’t take it very calmly. Three days later, Kyle was taken to a neurologist and examined. Kyle, of course, dissociated throughout the entire appointment and only relearned what he was told at the hospital. This would be permanent and he had to be careful about what he subjected himself to. The only new information he learned was this: He shouldn’t watch a lot of movies that move very fast, such as action movies. He should be mindful of disco and party lights as well. He should also make sure to stay calm and not stress himself out, and to sleep properly. If not, he would be putting himself at risk of triggering another seizure. The idea of medication was brought up but Kyle refused to consider or humor the idea for even a second. He didn’t want to be around pills again, which made sense. After his mother felt that her son was fine, she let him go of her helicopter parenting grip.

It took a while for Kenny and Wendy to calm down as well. Both teens were pissed that no one informed them of Kyle being in the hospital until a day later. It seemed that they had become brainless after being delivered the news because they tried to baby and coddle Kyle immediately. However, and surprisingly, Kyle demanded respect and trust. It made Ike feel pretty big, considering that was his idea all along. The entire discussion went pretty strange.

“I can’t believe you!” Kenny scolded, pacing up and down along the side of the coffee table, near the television. “You didn’t even think to text me?!”

“No, I was more or less thinking ‘oh wow, hey, I’m having a goddamn seizure, this sure is new.’” Kyle said most calmly.

“You could have at least told us after you got out of the hospital. Or when you had your wits about you. We would have been there.” Wendy said, seated on the couch beside Kyle. 

“I’m sure you would have.” Kyle agreed. 

“This is ridiculous, the doctor didn’t even say anything?” Kenny asked, more riled up than anyone over Kyle’s health.

“Um.. in the response of what?” Kyle asked, confused about when or what he was referring to.

“He didn’t give you any answers?” Wendy tried to restate.

“No, he just suggested I see a specialist. That’s common-”

“So he didn’t do anything?!” Kenny came back.

It went on like that for a while until Ken calmed back down and accepted that everything was okay and Kyle then had an appointment set up for a neurologist the next day. Although, during that discussion, Wendy took notice of Kyle’s progress in social skills and stability. She quickly wanted to treat him.

“When do you want to go back out? I’m so proud that you’re going out of the house, and on your own.” Wendy said. Something so loving rested in her big brown eyes. “I wish I could’ve been there with you.”

It honestly made Kyle feel awful. Wendy had been there for him this entire time and Kenny and Cartman only recently returned to his life, yet he had been running to them instead. Wendy should have been the first one he hugged and met in the night. She didn’t seem upset at all about it though. He wanted to make it up to her still.

“I’d love to go out again. I mean, if my mom ever lets me out of her sight again that is.”

“Well why don’t we just bring everyone? You’ve been hanging out with Cartman too, right?” Wendy asked, gaining Kenny’s attention. 

“Oh, they’ve been hanging out alright.” Ken snickered. 

Kyle shot a glance at him but that did no good.

“What do you mean? Like, fighting?” Wendy asked, then concerned that Cartman and him had gotten into a brawl.

“No..no not like fighting. Quite the opposite, huh, Kyle?” Ken grinned, taking a seat on the arm of the Broflovski’s couch. 

“Shut up.” Kyle glared.

“What? What happened?” She asked, her eyes darting between the redhead and the blonde. 

“Nothing.” Kyle snapped, fighting his own smile. He gave Ken a daring look, but as expected, Kenny took that dare.

“Let’s just say if his hair wasn’t that long, he’d need a turtleneck-”

“I said shut up!” Kyle yelled, reaching over to shove his hind end off the sofa.

“Maybe some concelear.” The blonde laughed, even harder with an “Oh, shit!” as he almost slipped off. 

“Stop, man!” Ken laughed.

“Then stop telling my secrets, asshole!” 

“You didn’t!” Wendy snapped, quickly trying to move Kyle’s hair away from the crime scene to examine it further.

“Stop! Oh, my God!” Kyle yelled, laughing as they all became rowdy.

“Let me see! You fucking didn’t! How could you?!” Wendy squealed.

“You kissed him too!” Kyle judged right back.

“And I don’t have an explanation for that, I was 8, but you’re fucking 19! You should know better than to kiss the devil!”

Interrogations were given until the Jew couldn’t take it anymore. He decided to just change the subject completely and turn it all back to the group, in a plural form.

“Are you gonna go out with him?” Wendy asked, Kenny wondering the same exact thing.

“What?! No. But-! You know what should happen?” Kyle said, giving a false tone, as if to sound as excited at the other two did. “We should all go out together. Somewhere. In public. As friends.”

While the other two teens weren’t as satisfied with that answer, they did ponder it and it was a nice suggestion. They hadn’t all been around each other in a year.

“Yeah... Yeah, that would be pretty nice.” Wendy commented, finding that she wanted something like that. Maybe things could feel nice again for once.

It was decided after that to get Ike and Cartman involved. Later that night they all went to Cartman’s house and talked it out in person since over text would be so much more difficult. They all gathered around the couch; Wendy, Kyle, and Kenny sat on the sofa while Cartman and Ike were on the carpet. Eric sat on the floor in between Wendy and Kyle as Ike laid his head in Kenny’s lap.

“So, are we talking like amusements parks?” Cartman asked, scrolling through his phone mindlessly while everyone thought it over.

“Really? You think putting someone who just had a seizure on a roller coaster is a good idea?” Kenny asked back, sarcastically. He was currently stroking Ike’s beautiful swart mane. This did it for Ike, he wasn’t big on any type of affection or physical embrace but having his hair played with was a secret pleasure. The second Ken put his fingers through his locks, he purely melted.

“Actually,” The Canadian piped up, tilting his head a bit as he spoke, with his eyes closed peacefully. “Roller coasters don’t trigger seizures. We really only need to look out for flashing lights.”

“See, it’s not a bad idea, dickhead.” Cartman snapped.

“Shut up.” Ken smarted back.

“How about ...oh, well.. No.” Wendy paused. “What about swimming?”

“There is no. Fucking. Way. That I am getting into a public pool.” Kyle declared.

“What about a lake?” Cartman asked in return.

“There is no. Fucking. Way. That I am getting into a bacteria infested fish piss pool.” Ike said, cracking up halfway through it.

“You are honestly impossible. There is nothing wrong with lakes-” Cartman tried.

“They are filled with scum and I can’t see the bottom of them.” Ike said, opening his eyes for a moment to look at the older teen beside him.

“Holy shit, do you have a weakness? You’re afraid of lakes.” Cartman boasted, finding this to be interesting.

“I am not afraid of anything and I have no weaknesses.” Ike hissed back.

Kyle took this moment to lean over and whisper something into Kenny’s ear. 

“Oh, yeah?” Ken grinned, shooting a surprised look to Kyle. “Okay.” 

With that, Ken leaned forward, now wrapping his left arm around Ike’s torso, holding him tight.

“Woah, what the fuck are you doin-!” Was cut off by sudden screams of high pitched laughter as Kenny slipped his hand up in the side of Ike’s blue sleeveless shirt and tickled up his ribcage. There was quite a struggle as Ike jerked back and forth, trying to pry Ken’s arms off of him while laughing so hard. After a good solid minute, tears were already in his eyes. Curse words flooded from his mouth in between the wheezing and shrilling. Soon came the threatening then finally the oh, so sweet begging.

“Please! Pleasepleaseplease, staahhp!” Ike squealed, his cheeks and ears burning red while his jaw hurt. The whole group were in tears as well from the mere sight of this. 

“Oh, was that a please? Did a please actually leave the sour mouth of the All Mighty Ike?” Ken played along. It was apparent that he still had some big brother skills. 

“Fuck you!” Ike coughed, ready to pee his pants as the fingers moved to the other side of his ribs.

“Ah, those aren’t the right words.” Ken said, going harder.

“Fine, fine! Please, Uncle, whatever!”

Ken freed him, and Ike ran far away to the opposite side of the couch beside Wendy.

“Wendy, you won’t let him near me, right?” Ike joked, wiping his tears away.

“Oh, of course, not.” Wendy said, patting the boy’s head then sending the blonde a wink.

“How about the zoo?” Kyle finally chipped in, having needed to think hard about it for awhile.

“The zoo?” Wendy repeated, considering it. “Well.. yeah, that sounds great.”

“All ages can go, there’s no lights, it’ll be warm and sunny.” Kyle shrugs. “And we haven’t been in forever.”

“Yeah.. yeah, I can’t remember the last time I went to the Denver Zoo.” Wendy hummed in thought. “How do you guys feel about it?” 

“I like it.” Ken chimed.

“Sounds like a plan.” Cartman agreed simply.

From there, the group dispersed and planned the trip out. On Saturday, they would all be off work and not busy, if all went well, especially with Sheila and her watchful eye on her baby. They all decided that would be the day, and the day has come.

“It’s Saturday, August 3rd, and it’s looking pretty great here on SPNEWs, now that anchorwoman Martha Powers is back.” A cheesy, deep-voiced anchorman speaks on the television.

“I’m glad to be back, Trey. However, it’s not looking too great outside. We’ve got some pretty bad rain out there, huh, Matt?”

“Yeah, Martha, it’s already begun to rain and it’s not letting up anytime soon. In fact it’s going to get very hard tonight around four o’clock. For those of you at home, it would be best to postpone any planned outdoor activity till tomorrow.” The meteorologist, Matt, responds.

“Kyle-!”

“Mom, it’s going to be fine. Wendy is driving and I feel fine. We’re not going anywhere near lights. I’m going to be okay.” Kyle persists as he tries to get his mother calm.

He had gotten up early to shower, get dressed, eat, brush his teeth, and get Ike up. They were finally done when his mother had gotten up, saw the news and tried to put a stop to it all. While frustrating, Kyle kept at this and finally won her highly hesitant approval.

“I just want you to be safe.” Sheila pleads.

“And I will be. We will be. I promise you.” He reassures with a tight hug, which sadly, she never wants to end. 

“Just be careful.” She speaks softly, having to give into the fact that she isn’t in control again. Things have been that way for a very long time now. She just still isn’t used to it. She hasn’t let go on the inside.

“I will.” He says and pulls away. He grabs his brother’s hand and heads out the door. They walk outside to Wendy’s black Subaru Legacy. Kenny steps out, making Ike sit in between him and Cartman. Kyle takes his rightful place up front. When in, they close the doors and buckle up.

“Drink?” Kenny asks as he hands Kyle a canned soft drink from his small, worn out zipped up cooler bag.

“No alcohol?” Kyle asks back, giving a playful pouty face. “I thought you always came through for me, Kenny.”

“Not today. Got a lil one with us.” Kenny says, hooking his left arm around Ike, putting him in a choke hold while he ruffles his hair with his right hand.

“Honestly, fuck off.” Ike spits, reaching up and tugging on the blonde hair until Ken lets him go.

“Don’t make me tickle you again.”Ken warns.

“Do it and I’ll stab you in the throat.” Ike threatens in return.

“Ike!” Wendy scolds. 

“Don’t make her turn the car around, brat, we haven’t even left yet.” Cartman drones as he grabs the snack supplies that he brought. He reaches up and hands Kyle a small bag of Cheesy Poofs and then puts it back in the floor.

“I don’t get one?” Ike asks, watching this.

“He’s biased about Kyle, didn’t you know?” Kenny giggles. That makes Kyle turn around quick in his seat. 

“The fuck did you say?” The redhead asks.

“Yeah, what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Cartman glares. 

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I said and mean.” The blonde chuckles, starting to crack up a bit. “Hey, your scratches are gone, Kyle.” Ken points out.

“Yeah. They are.” Kyle says, touching his own healed neck softly. 

“Something else is gone too, huh?” Ken leads on.

“I haven’t a clue of what you’re talking about Kenneth.”

“Head straight and take the next left.” A monotone robotic voice commands, coming from Wendy’s phone. 

“Is everyone ready?” Wendy asks one last time. 

“Yes, and what are you getting on about, poor boy?” Eric snaps.

“I’m just saying..” Ken gets quite, trying to not say anything more, but leave the tension in the car to feed upon itself. 

“Saying what?” Ike asks, oblivious to all of this.

“Nothing!” Comes sternly from Wendy, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. They hadn’t realized that Ike never knew and didn’t exactly want him to know either.

“No no, what is it? What else is gone?” Ike asks, intrigued now.

The car begins to move and so does the conversation. 

“Nothing. Nevermind.” Ken says, trying not to look at Kyle who is glaring daggers into his blonde fucking skull.

“What? No, what happened. I want to know.” Ike insists. 

“It’s nothing Ike-” Kyle begins.

 

“Stop!” Ike says in the most stern voice that anyone has heard so far. “Do not do that.” 

A look has come across Ike’s usually somewhat calm face. He’s not angry or popped off, he’s simply determined and trying to appear as a grown up, an authority worth taken seriously.

“Do not treat me as a child; I can vote in four years, I can smoke in four years, I can drink in seven years and I can fuck a girl my age right now, so don’t you dare come at me with that ‘nothing’ bullshit. I’ve done plenty of growing this past year. I’ve taken care of you everyday for months at a time, I’ve taken in every bit of knowledge that I can so far, and I have proven myself worthy of being an adult. In fact, I’m mentally older than anyone else in this car and if any of you chose to treat me as if I can’t take an adult conversation just because of my physical age then you can just turn the fuck around and take me home. Do you all understand?” Ike speaks very quickly, turning the conversation from his brother to the entire group. 

The car has grown dead silent while everyone’s eyes are pretty wide in an uncomfortable shock. Kyle is taken so far back he can’t find the words to speak. 

“I gave your brother a hickie.” Cartman blurts, eyes focusing on the back of Kyle’s headrest that’s in front of him.

“Oh.” Ike says softly. He pauses. “Well, that, I just didn’t want to know.” He says, trying to look elsewhere, creating an explosion of ironic laughter in the car.

After some time goes by, Kyle remembers he made a playlist on his Spotify specifically for this trip.

“Hey, I got some nice oldies on here.” He promises as he hands his phone to Cartman. 

“Oh, yeah?” Cartman asks, just trying to forget the mark he gave Kyle. He succeeds the second that he sees the playlist. 

“Oh, my God.” He says, eyes sparking. “Tell me you have a fucking aux cord.” He prays. 

“Yeah, it’s right here.” Kyle says, taking it out and hooking the phone to the car’s radio. The entire time, Cartman is losing his mind. He sits up, makes sure the volume is up a good bit on the stereo and the phone and hits play. Not even a millisecond passes when the car erupts in involuntary teenage screams.

“Some-BODY once told me the world was gonna roll me-!” Comes from every single throat in the car.

“Fuck yes!” Kenny praises, happily singing with his newly found, pure loving, best friends.

For the next three minutes and twenty seconds, everyone is yelling the lyrics to the old, dearly beloved song from their holy grail of a movie. Once it ends, Kenny goes in for the grab.

“Tell me you have it, for the love of Saint Peter.” He says as he quickly finds it and clicks on it. The very familiar heavenly mix of keyboard and chimes flood through the speakers. 

“I hate this fucking song.” Cartman groans, sinking into the backseat. Wendy brakes hard at the stoplight.

“Get out.” She demands as she looks at him in her rearview mirror. 

“It’s just so overplayed!” Cartman protests.

“We bless the rains down in Africa in this fucking car, do you hear me?” Wendy laughs as she raises her voice and turns the knob up to a higher volume. After hardcore, and absolute sprititual singing, it’s Ike’s turn. He swipes it and thumbs through it.

“Ya know, you didn’t do bad this time. These are actually really good, bro.” Ike compliments. Kyle sends a look around the car.

“Oh, fuck. Was that praise? Approval from my dearest little brother?” He laughs.

“Aaannnd, you’ve lost it all, good job, fuck-o.” He says, clicking the song he wants and giving it back to Kyle.

After the first beat of the iconic 80’s jam, everyone knows what song it is.

“Never Gonna Give You Up! Called it!” Kenny yells.

“Yeah! Let’s do that!” Kyle says. “Let’s see who can guess the most songs the fastest.” He encourages. 

“What if we don’t know them?” Wendy asks. 

“You should know them. You know them, I promise.” Kyle assures her. 

“Okay, but what if we hate them?” Cartman ponders.

“If you hate these songs then I am saddened that I allowed you to give me a hickie.” Kyle assures him with a kittenish smile.

They all agree to the game and play until they arrive at the zoo. 

“You have reached your destination.” Blares from the phone after an hour later of the map beginning. Wendy happily shuts the phone up and puts it in her purse. Kyle turns his Spotify off, recounting the points that he made on his phone’s notepad app.

“Alright, uh, well it looks like Wendy won.” He informs, receiving name calls instantly from Cartman.

“Nuh-uh! That’s cheating! She cheated!”

“How in the hell could I have cheated, fatass?” Wendy asks, exasperated. 

“Well maybe the Jew changed it up, gave her extra points since she’s a girl.”

“I’m a feminist, I believe in equality, therefore I don’t give girls extra credit for simply having vaginas,” Kyle defends himself. 

“Fine, whatever.” Eric pouts. He has to admit, it feels fucking amazing to act like a lively brat again.

“So what do I win?” Wendy asks as she parks the car and pulls up the emergency brake.

“Uh,” Kyle pauses as he puts his phone up. “A date with me.”

“Oh, great!” She says super chipper. “Thank gosh I’m already here.” She laughs as she collects her things as well.

Kenny and Cartman give each other a look, knowing that flirting seems to be afoot. They roll their eyes just a bit and get out, each closing their doors on Ike.

The rain comes down in blistering waves, forcing everyone to hurry up and make a run for the entrance. They reach the main building and are greeted by some workers. They pay their fees and start looking around at sweet nostalgia. The boys mostly just look around the walls and out of the windows while Wendy uses her head and grabs a map. When she comes back, she sees that the boys all look bored. She isn’t sure why, but her blood is beginning to boil. She walks about the boys and corrals them all together, minus Kyle. She looks around at them as she speaks softly, yet firmly.

“Why do you guys all look like a bunch of sticks in the mud?” She asks.

“It’s just, it’s raining. How are we supposed to see the animals?” Cartman asks.

“I mean he has a point, it’s going to be hell outside and every living creature out there will be in it’s cages.” Ike adds in.

“Plus, we could get sick out there.” Kenny says, staring out the window. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Oh, my God.” Wendy whispers. She backs up. “No.” She shakes her head a bit while pursing her lips. “You have all got to be kidding me.” She checks their looks, but they’re not kidding. They’re letting her down. 

“No. No, I’m not going to do this. I can’t do this.” She says before stalking away and grabbing Kyle’s hand. She cannot handle the fact that these men refuse to take part in a plan that they all made together in order to hang out with their friend who is sick with many different things. Once again, she feels like she is the only person who wants Kyle around. They exit to the outside without another word.

“Woah, hey.” Kyle smiles as he is taken away from the cool fish pictures and facts on the wall that he was reading prior. “Where are the others?” He asks as they enter the wind and rain.

“Forget them,” Wendy says, having to be a little loud to be heard. 

“What? Why? What happened?” 

“Nothing, don’t worry about it-hey-, look at me.” Wendy demands, grasping him by his shoulders. “Please just walk with me in this moment and don’t look back.”

Kyle, while bewildered, agrees and walks with her. He would have asked a bunch of more questions but, something deep inside tells him not to.

The two walk towards the Predator Ridge and look at some lions who happen to be visible. However, Kyle really isn’t looking at them yet. He’s looking at Wendy.

Wendy had really grown, despite having already been so mentally prepared and developed and she was never ugly or in bad shape. She honestly is perfect as a female figure. She’s a bit taller at 5’8, has strong muscles from all the sports she’s played in school, from cheer, to volley ball, to girls basketball, to girls soccer, to even softball for a season or two. She’s got nice skin with pink undertones. She has perfect thighs and legs, long and stretching. Her arms are tough yet are so soft. She could deck a bitch and it feel like silk. Her face is so feminine and structured wonderfully, very symmetrical. Her chest of course, which left Kyle blushing to even consider an observation, were ..pretty goddamn perfect like the rest of her. C cups that were downright attractive in any top, but especially in her current tank top. She’s wearing her usual purple, this time in the form of a sleeveless chiffon top that has a big bow across the chest with ruffles draping under it. It’s very beautiful, even more in contrast to her white denim shorts and black Nike sneakers, which she chose for the ankle support during this walk. She has always been so smart, cautious, thoughtful even. It’s starting to hit Kyle. She’s always been so thoughtful. She has been the one always coming through for him. She has always been the one taking him out, doing whatever he wanted, even if it was nothing. She is the only person who has consistently stayed other than his own family. She has given him so much love, support, devotion and loyalty. She is always the one calling and texting him, seeing if he is okay, wanting to be there for him. Suddenly, there is a lump in his throat. He quickly turns his head, choking it down best he can but he’s let her down. He has let her down so fucking much. She should have been the one he ran to, hugged, kissed even, just to make up for the emotional constipation and constant need for self-reassurance.

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” Wendy smiles, nodding at the lions. “Too bad it’s rainy.” She gives with a little laugh. Kyle only nods back and looks at them once more before stepping away with her to examine the other animals who could be wandering out of their enclosures and into a better, despite wetter, view.

“Should we go out there?” Kenny asks, unsure of what exactly to do. “She just kind of up and left us.”

“She’s such a bitch-” Cartman begins.

“Stop.” Ike ends. “You’re not allowed to be awful to her, she gave you a ride.”

“Should we go out there?” Kenny asks, unsure of what exactly to do. “She just kind of up and left us.”

“She’s such a bitch-” Cartman begins.

“Stop.” Ike ends. “You’re not allowed to be awful to her, she gave you a ride.”

“Yeah, Cartman, c’mon. You’re only mad because he’s showing interest in her.” Kenny taunts.

“Are you really one to talk?” Ike asks, confused. “Why aren’t you jealous?”

“What are you talking about?” Cartman asks, raising his head from the bleak grey window he had been staring out of.

“Well..don’t you like Kyle?” Ike asks, confused. Kenny’s demeanor changes, he’s suddenly stiff, as if he’s caught in a lie or secret.

“I mean, I love him as a friend-”

“And what about as not a friend?” Ike adds in.

“Well,” His gaze pans over to Eric’s brown and blue eyes. “Not like, I mean.” He stammers. He puts his head down and starting cracking his knuckles.

“What do you want me to say, man?” The blonde asks, defeated.

“Seriously?” Eric asks, feeling betrayed suddenly. “..Are you serious, you know how I feel, right? You heard me when I told you, right?” Petty jealousy rises in him. 

“Why are you asking him these questions?” Eric asks Ike, turning to him.

“He was over at our house, flirting with him and stuff-”

“That’s enough.” Kenny says.

“Yeah, it is enough. It’s more than enough, Kenny.” The brunette spits. Eric isn’t pissed, bubbling angry, he’s too tired for that. He’s too tired and too old to act how he would have even as little as a year ago. “It’s way more than enough to make him fall for you and you know it.” He says, for once in his life at a soft level. It’s so strange for him to do so, but he doesn’t have it in him anymore to give a fuck. He stands and walks away to the exit. He decides to walk opposite of Wendy and Kyle and go see the pachyderms, the type of animals which he identified as throughout his childhood. 

“Am I really in the wrong, here?” Ken asks. 

“I don’t know if I can really say. I don’t think so, but I also don’t know what’s going on.” Ike shrugs. Ken gives a sigh and leans back in this very comfortable pleather chair. 

“About a year ago, Cartman told me he was in love with Kyle and we’ve spoke about it a few times since, but definitely not in a long time. He and I stopped talking too and when Kyle texted me, it just felt right. And I mean, Kyle kissed first, so I’m not to blame.” He says, not making total sense with his mind firing many different thoughts at once. 

“Is my brother a fuck boi?” Ike blurts, catching Kenny’s attention. 

“What? No! He’s a virgin, isn’t he? That’s what you said.”

“Yeah but it’s sounding like he’s trying to get somewhere. I mean, good for him. I’m just clueless on what he’s up to.”

“He’s not up to anything.”

“Isn’t he though?”

Ken sits in silence for a second.

“He’s not a fuck boi, you have to actually fuck to be one.” He says with certainty.

“Alright, well, he kisses you, gets a hickie from Cartman, now is out in the rain alone with Wendy. I’d think I’d call that a crisis.”

“It’s not a crisis.” Ken grumbles. “He’s just,.. I don’t know. He deserves to finally feel something-”

“Even if that means playing with your heart?” Ike asks, curiously.

Ken looks up, his diamond blue eyes full of confidence and truth.

“I’m honored to be a pawn in his chess game.”

“You’re not smart enough to play chess-”

“I know there’s pawns in it! Shut the fuck up!” Kenny snaps back.

Kyle strolls alongside Wendy. His outfit is such a drab to him now. He’s wearing his green Smokey the Bear tank top, an orange flannel, some shorts, some sneakers, and of course, his trusty signature hat. All of which are now soaked in rain water.

“Are you okay?” Wendy asks, checking on him every five minutes.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He reassures her once more, but she still isn’t buying it. He looks too sad to be telling the truth. She pretends to believe for a little while and keeps walking with him. He can’t help but think back to Wendy before all of this mess. He looks down at her and sees her differently. They’re surrounding changes with her.

It was her 16th birthday, she was surprised with her new car that morning for her birthday. It was a brand new model, bought right off the lot for her. She pulled up to school in it and everyone flocked around her. She looked so happy that day. The winter sun was shining bright on her, not a single snowflake touched her. Her cheery face melted all ice in her direction. She was so lively and deep down, Kyle was jealous. His veins threatened to burst when Stan came around, walked in front of him and laid a kiss right on her. 

He shakes his head and rubs where his scar is. He doesn’t want to think of him but he can’t not think of him. He wants to ask her. He wants to ask right now. He keeps his mouth shut and follows her lead to the Tropical Discovery. They enter the building and it’s a vast spacious building filled with tanks. Some walls are made entirely of glass. Behind there are frogs and toads of various kinds and separated. They maneuver through and giggle at the adorable, yet highly poisonous tomato frog. They walk a good bit and suddenly reach it. It leaves Kyle in his tracks. The sign above reads “Albino Red Tailed Boa Constrictor.” Kyle can’t take his eyes away from the snake that is slithering in the habitat before him. The orange looks the same as his flannel, the white as sheer as his soul. It’s making him feel sick.

“You’re a snake.” Comes from his mind. He shoves it away immediately. He pushes it so far out of his mind that he can’t hear anything anymore. That is until a loud bang sounds right in front of his face. He opens his eyes to see the boa up, staring at him, mouth open wide, wanting him. It had just smacked against the glass, darting for him. He backs up slowly, swallowing hard. It’s him. He wants to ask so badly. However, he knows if he asks, his memories will become vivid again, he could have nightmares, he could just...die.

He turns and takes Wendy’s hand and leads them into another room, this one is an aquarium. He takes a moment to absorb the beauty of this place. The walls and ceiling are made of glass. Fish fly overhead and swarm everywhere in their own extraordinary shapes and colors. Light bounces off the water, creating luscious beams that shine across the room. Everything is blue, every shade and tint and hue are gathered here in this volume. He looks at the fish swimming around and finds that he’s weakening. Here it is again. This sea blue, his ocean eyes. Kyle clears his throat and the lump returns. He can’t take it anymore.

“How is Stan?” Comes pouring out of his mouth. 

Wendy turns and looks at him, so surprised. 

“What?”

“How is Stan? Is he okay? Is he happy?” Kyle has become all sorts of strange, his hands are shaking and he’s finding it hard to breathe and he can’t look her in the eye. 

“Woah, woah woah woah, hold on.” She takes his hands, ready to sit with him on the floor.

“No.” He grabs her by the shoulder and looks at her. “How is he?”

“Kyle, we should sit down. You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

There’s a bit of silence.

“You’re right. I’m not. I’ve completely let you down.” He says, some tears are building up in his eyes. “I have given my attention to others who don’t matter nearly as much as you should. You’ve given everything to me and I never said thank you enough or as often. You have been here for so long by me, you could have left town too, you could have been something. You would have been something right then and there but you stopped, you took two years off to go to community college and take a bunch of online classes so you could stay near me and help me. I didn’t just take Stan’s schooling away, I took yours too and I am so sorry, and I can’t do anything to stop or fix it but I can do this-”  
He pulls her close, his hands moving to cup her jaw in his palms, his fingers curling to the shape of her high cheekbones. He presses their lips together boldly, firmly, meaningfully. Her brown eyes widen then close right in sync with the movements of his lips. Her chest begins to hurt so hard. The pain spreads from her heart and into her veins, into her fingertips and beyond her brain. She wraps her arms around his neck as if they were meant to be there. He moves his hands to her sides and pulls her closer for a tight and long overdue embrace. Wendy moves her left hand up to his hair, making his hat fall off, and it feels familiar. He moves his right hand to her hip, slipping his hand up her shirt very slightly. He runs his nails up and down her side, caressing the softest skin he has ever touched. Her body seems to know this game, this exact one. She knows that move and she gets lost in her own memory. He trails his hand up her spine just a bit and it comes out. She whispers against his lips. 

“Stan-”

Both of their eyes open and each push the other away. Wendy backs away then spins on her heels, walking towards the exit ahead of them while Kyle grabs his hat and looks away from her. She pauses, her foot taps against the tiled floor as she tries to figure out what the hell just happened. Kyle crosses his arms and studies the wall of living, swimming fish and tries to make sense of it all.

“I am so sorry-” They say in unison. Both turn and look at each other and suddenly, Wendy cracks a nervous smile. Kyle gives a scared chuckle right back. Soon it’s not nervous. They both just give in and start laughing like crazy. They’re holding their sides by the time they’re done. After a couple of minutes, everything is silence again. 

“Wanna go back? I mean.. It’s fucking raining.” Kyle laughs. Wendy nods. 

“This was such a stupid idea.” She giggles. 

Kyle walks over, taking her hand and kissing her cheek.

“I love you and I’m sorry I haven’t said that.”

She shakes her head. 

“You don’t have to say it for me to know it, Kyle.”

There they are. Those big soft eyes, right on time. Kyle can’t decide whether he liked them more when open or closed.

They decide to actually walk around just a bit more before leaving to the entrance. They find Cartman on the way and they all chatter back to the doors, where they then discover Ike desperately trying to teach Kenny how to play chess on their phones. On the way home, they all play their game and Wendy wins a second time, earning many complaints and protests from the boys. They get back to Cartman’s house at around four o’clock and decide to just lay back for awhile in the living room. They create a mediocre pallet on the floor with throw pillows, sheets, and blankets for Ike, Kenny, and Wendy to sit on. It was Cartman’s house so he got the couch, but Kyle took what he wanted when it came to Cartman being a dick, so he too sat on the couch. All currently were gathered around with sodas and various snacks.

“So, what was it like having a seizure?” Wendy asks randomly, catching everyone’s attention. 

“Oh, uh, well I don’t really remember. I know my body hurt and I woke up terrified. I don’t remember anything in between it or what happened right before it.”

“You don’t remember telling me you were going to the bathroom?” Ike asks. Kyle only shakes his head. 

“How does it hurt?” Eric asks.

“It’s like when your leg falls asleep but a million times worse and more painful.”

“Do you remember any of the hospital visit?” Ken asks.

“Kind of? I mean, I remember some. I’m fuzzy about a lot of stuff though. Mostly whenever the doctor was talking, I just zoned out like crazy.”

“But it’s permanent, right?” Ken asks. 

“Yeah, it won’t go away.” 

“Can’t they give you medication?” Eric asks. 

Ike shushes him and gives a glaring look. 

“What?” Eric scoffs. 

“Why did you shush him?” Kyle asks, wanting to know what purpose that served. 

Ike looks away, looking like Kenny did earlier, is if he were caught.

“Nothing. I was just. Ya know,” Ike stumbles. He can’t think of a lie quick enough. 

“C’mon don’t stress him out. Just tell him.” Cartman mutters.

“Tell me what?” Kyle asks, looking between the two.

“I ..I told Cartman about ..what happened in March.” He says, almost whispering at the end of the sentence. 

“You did what?” Kyle looks to Cartman then back at Ike. “Why would you do that?”

“Because.. People could think this is the worst you’ve ever been just because you had a seizure, but it’s the best you’ve ever been. You’ve made so much progress. Your health might be different, but you’ve accomplished so much stuff in a week and I just. I guess I just wanted to tell someone about the progress.” Ike says, sounding so genuine in this moment. Kyle takes notice of it. 

“What happened in March?” Kenny asks. 

Kyle looks at Wendy, even she has her head down. 

“Alright. Okay.” Kyle adjusts himself. “Wendy and Ike were there for everything. Only you two don’t know. So I guess I’ll tell you everything.”

He clears his throat and begins.

“After I got out of the hospital, the doctors prescribed me oxycontin. I took them for a week but I was laying there and realized what I did. Stan hated me and locked me out, everyone hated me for being reckless and ruining his life. He was going to be something. He was going to go to Texas, study liberal arts, get into National Guard and Peace Corps and I ruined that. He was going to help everyone. I fucked that up. So I just started saving my meds. Every time mom would give me a dose, I would put it in my pocket. I’d go upstairs and put it in a Ziploc bag and put it under my mattress. I saved it for when I cracked and needed them. But I didn’t need them for awhile. After I saw you guys in October, I just stayed in my room. I stayed in my room for about 5 months straight. I only came out to go to the bathroom. Ike would get up, make me breakfast, leave it by my door. He’d come home, give me lunch. Then dinner. He’d make me a glass of Breakfast Essentials to get my vitamins, a glass of water, an orange, and something with meat and spinach to help my iron. That was the usual strange dish. Mom and Dad weren’t around for a good few months so Ike just took care of himself and me. He’d have to come in, collect all of my trash. He’d grab me by the shoulders, try to wake me up, pull me up, get me to go take a shower but I hated it because I had to look at my own body, I hated looking at myself. Wendy would always come over and talk to me outside my door. I didn’t want her to come in and I didn’t want to come out. At that point I was trying to die but I didn’t have something to push me over the edge. I randomly decided to check my Facebook and got one of those stupid memory posts. It was all of our pictures of Kenny’s 18th birthday party. We were all so happy. Stan still loved me, he was my super best friend. That did it. That night, Ike wanted to go to a friends house, I didn’t say no, so he went. I took the opportunity to do it. I went downstairs and got mom and dad’s wine. That was the one time in months that I went downstairs. I went back up and chugged all I could at once then cried for a while and got the pills. I went to the bathroom because I knew I would leave a mess from overdosing so I just sat on the floor. I took all the pills at once with wine and slowly blacked out. I feel asleep and I died. I swear I died. I ended up in this place, it’s black and there’s nothing in it. It’s what Atheists believe in, the Eternal Oblivion. And it’s the true heaven. There was nothing there. Just black, warmth, peace, silence. Then I woke up vomiting everywhere. Mom and Dad came in and found me still puking then passed out from exhaustion. They took me to the emergency room. I was put in this weird emergency psych ward. Then My parents found a place to send me in Denver. So I left the hospital, was escorted by a county sheriff to Old Vineyard mental hospital. I stayed there for a week and came home. Afterwards, mom put me in therapy. I’ve been going ever since. Honestly, I don’t know why I’ve been going out at all. I don’t know what triggered my progress. But.. Here we are, I guess.”

Kyle looks up, feeling a stab in his chest as he sees tears rolling down Kenny’s cheeks.

“Ken?” Kyle whispers. Eyes turn to Kenny as he drops his head down. He shakes his head a bit, his shaggy blonde hair moving with it as he wipes his eyes.

“I’m fine.”

Kyle scoots down to the floor and hugs him tight. 

“I’m okay. I promise.” Kyle swears, knowing that must be scaring him.

“You could have died.” He croaks into Kyle’s shoulder as he holds onto him so very tightly. 

“But I didn’t.” Kyle mumbles back, letting Kenny hold him for as long as he needs.

It stays like this for awhile. Everyone stays quiet for a bit. However, the night goes on. They reconcile and continue their fun evening. They all spend time in each other’s company and enjoy themselves. Ike gets somewhere finally with teaching Kenny to play chess and Kyle and Wendy talk for awhile in the kitchen about what happened at the aquarium. Later, Kyle and Cartman get into a big argument over global warming which is very comforting to witness. Next, they play all sorts of games with Ike since he never gets to go to parties or do things with his peers. Then they eat a bunch of processed foods and frozen pizza rolls and call it a night. Cartman sleeps upstairs, Ike, Wendy, and Kenny sleep on the pallet and Kyle sleeps on the couch. Once Kyle drifts to sleep, it begins again.

He’s in the void, the sky is above him, the ground is beneath his feet. His hands are on Wendy’s hips. Their lips cross and she kisses his neck. Her and his breath waver across each other skin, making goosebumps rise. Her soft breaths change slowly. It becomes softer and softer as her arms wrap around his throat and squeezes up against him. He can feel her toned abdomen against his stomach. He can feel the heat from her thighs against his crotch. He can feel her bare chest pressing against his. Her breath goes as soft as it can then twists into a hiss. He opens his eyes and her big doe eyes are now a hypnotizing orange and white. He falls back and hits the dirt. Her body presses against his, now turned into a boa in coils, wrapping around his rib cage. She squeezes tighter and tighter until his ribs snap. He screams out in pain but she slides around his throat, constricting him. As he tries to breathe, tries to yell, she enters his mouth and travels down. There it is again, that familiar feeling of something around his throat and down his mouth. He tries to reach up and pry her off but he can’t move, he’s stuck, constricted, trembling as he suffocates.

“Kyle! Kyle- Fuck! Ike, Wendy, get up!” Kenny yells, shaking them awake and he runs and turns the lights on. Strange noises come from Kyle as his body lays stiff yet trembling all over. His eyes stay moving back and forth from left to right while looking up. Foam begins to pour from his mouth in a thick froth.

The snake wraps around him more, all the way up to his cheeks, then squeezes so tight that they too snap beneath his skin.  
“You’re a snake. You’re evil, vile, scum that corrupts others. You’ve corrupted everyone.” The last thing he sees are those ocean eyes standing above him.


End file.
